Solanaceæ
by Clockwork Storyteller
Summary: Human AU. 1546. Lovino Vargas works as the assistant to a Belgian botanist. Antonio Fernández Carriedo has just returned from a voyage to the Spanish New World. One of them is Solanum lycopersicum and the other is Atropa belladonna. But one thing is clear, the Nightshade family is deadly when handled carelessly.
1. I: 1541

11 December 1541

The sun had dipped in the sky already and the cool wind carried the subtle scent of smoke along. Chimneys across the town wafted little tufts of gray into the multicolor sky. Winter had settled in slowly, but surely. The trees were mostly devoid of all leaves, save for the evergreens. The greenery that still remained in the garden was a welcome sight. Even for the boy in charge of maintaining it.

He had been hard at work breaking up hard soil in the garden so it would be ready for spring. His nails were caked with bits of dirt and small pebbles, his hands dusted a darker brown and the lines in his palm jumping at him, colored in by the debris. He flexed his fingers and looked at the marker. He had reached the end of the plot he had been asked to work on that day. He set down the hand spade and blew his hot breath upward to try and move his hair that had stuck to his forehead with sweat.

Lovino wiped the small beads of sweat from his brow with the back of his tan hand and called out in a dry voice that he was finished. His back cracked in protest when he straightened up from his crouching on the ground and he groaned loudly when his legs tingled. He heard the heavy, ornate, wooden door open and his boss walked out onto her porch. Her golden brown hair was tied back with a ribbon in the form of a headband and the wavy ends fell on her shoulders as she nodded. Her dainty lips were in a thin smile as he put the tools away properly.

"Thank you, Lovino. Your daily pay is here, come take it and we may call it a day." She smiled more now, extending a hand covered in a lace-trimmed glove. Her pastel green gown made Lovino sigh, she looked like the elegant heiress she was rather than a botanist at the moment. He gave her a bow, his muscles and bones protesting the movement, and she laughed softly. She always enjoyed his display. "You are very humorous, Lovino. Your temper would have me believe you would rather be a botanist yourself than an assistant to one, but your manners still prove you respect me."

"Grandfather has taught me never to disrespect a lady, Madame. You treat me well, also, it is only right I do the same." He responded quietly. He took his pay from her hand and kissed it afterward, giving her his farewell. "Lady Bosch, have a good evening at the gathering. I will be seeing you tomorrow."

She leaned on her arms, which she had rested on the porch railing, watching Lovino depart. He was a good worker, and kind at heart despite his temper. She was glad to have found someone with skilled hands to help her tend to her botanical garden so she could focus on studying the plants. She hummed to herself while she watched him disappear from sight and opened the door again to make her way inside once she could not see him anymore. Her garden would be ready for Spring if she continued having the boy help with turning the soil in the winter.

He stretched and let his muscles and bones relax as he made his way home, looking up at the sky to guess at the time. He was facing upward when he heard a commotion on the crossroad, making him turn his head forward again. His eyes widened as he made sense of the noise and found the movement that was causing it, stopping in his tracks. People he did not recognize were entering houses he knew were not theirs and he heard screaming. He looked around and breathed heavily as he made out one man breaking in to a house not far from where he stood. He would be seen if he stayed where he stood. He turned and the name of what he was witnessing came to mind. It was a pirate raid, he had heard of them recently becoming more frequent a few towns over. Knowing there was nowhere to hide if he ran forward, he made his way back to Emma Bosch's house. He pounded the path with his tired legs and knocked at her door desperately.

"Lady Bosch! Lady Bosch! Please! Please let me in!" He gasped, out of breath from the run. He knocked on the door furiously, his knuckles cracking as he did. The door opened and his boss looked alarmed. "Pirates." He managed and she stepped aside to allow him inside before closing the door again.

"Lars! Lars! Lovino says he saw pirates! Lars!" Lady Bosch called up the stairs. She turned to Lovino and patted his arms. "Were you seen? Did they follow? Lovino, listen to me. Are you all right? Are you sure?"

Lovino nodded jerkily before settling himself down a moment later, "I heard screaming and saw people entering houses I am certain are not theirs. Entering by force. The raids must have reached us this far inland."

Emma kept her composure well for someone being told of such a thing and Lovino was almost ashamed of his heightened nervousness. In a few moments, he saw the man he knew to be her step brother, Lars. He was looking very displeased but alert. He had two weapons in hand and Lovino wondered if he was to use one. To his surprise, Emma took the small knife when it was offered and sat back down. Lars gave her a nod as he took position to aim at the door. Lovino could not tell if the thundering he heard was his heart hammering in his head or someone at the door. He took a deep breath in and looked out the window. Someone had set fire to the evergreens in the back. The trees were so sad to look at as they let out dark smoke from the branches slowly being charred. There was a groan of wood and the door splintered open. Emma made a small noise which Lovino mistook as surprise and Lars wasted no time throwing the boy to the ground and away from the intruders. Lovino yelped, shocked at being tackled and hid behind the couch, making his way to a place where he could see outside. There was only a pair of men here and he looked up to see Lady Bosch driving a knife into one of their thighs. He cringed at the sight but knew it was merely survival. Lars had his wheel lock gun aimed at the other's throat.

"You will not take a damn thing from here, is that understood? What's the reward for a pair? Six hundred… seven maybe? You're lucky I don't kill you. There's a lady present."

Emma was sitting once again, her hands pressed neatly on her lap as she held the knife as if it were a mere ornament, not a weapon she had just used to drop a man to the ground. Her gloved hands made a quick move to smooth out her clothes and she set her free hand on her chest. She looked poised once again as she spoke, "Millicent, please. I feel faint, make me a tea if you would."

Romulus Vargas looked furious. Lovino noticed he could not hear his younger brother anywhere and looked up at his grandfather. "Grandfather, are you upset that Feliciano is late?"

Romulus grunted a little before he answered, "It is not with him. His two sponsors. The couple from Vienna. Do they think they can keep Feliciano this late without explanation? He is eight years old and I forbid such a thing. As for you, you took too long to get home. Was the dirt too difficult today and your work was longer or what have you to say for yourself?"

"No, uh, I was just going to tell you. There's a raid here. The pirates made it inland. Lady Bosch was good to let me in her house, there were two not far. I stayed there until Master Lars ordered. They brought me on their carriage. Grandfather… maybe Feliciano is caught in a raid? We should go! It would not be good to wait like this. I am worried."

His grandfather's stern gaze faltered a moment as he took in the information. Then, he nodded and stood to leave the living room. Romulus wasted no time in giving Lovino orders to hide himself in the house. They had a cellar for storage but although he disliked it, he was not to get out of the house and make his way to the cellar immediately. The boy agreed reluctantly, not enjoying the idea of being alone in the cellar while his grandfather and brother were out in the streets during a raid. He felt sick as he watched Romulus vanish from sight, his stomach twisting as he disobeyed and pressed his face to the window. He saw movement and breathed deeply, making his way down to the cellar as quietly as he could. Whether it was his grandfather returning or a raider, he would still be in trouble.

His birthday was the next day, and he wished for only one thing: his brother and grandfather to both be there. He was choking down these wishes, starting to pray a rosary while he waited. Time felt eternal. He was shaking in the cold from the cellar. Knowing that he could not risk to expose himself, he kept his candle close but had long since put it out. The darkness only served to make him hear every sound magnified and to imagine vivid and disturbing thoughts. He felt his stomach twist and pull. His throat felt dry and his heart felt clenched. The feeling is his throat was unpleasant and he bit his lips as he prayed. He hoped that this time his prayers would serve for more than keeping him busy as he whispered Amens. He would rather not turn ten years old at a funeral.

Erzsébet was surprised when Romulus Vargas appeared at her door, she was not a stranger to his distaste for his orders being ignored. Her smile was soft and understanding even as she began explaining that they had, in fact, been raided. She had not yet made a second round through the estate to ensure the threat was gone. She tried to draw attention away from her dirty clothes and dress, hoping he would buy a story about her gardening if asked. She knew it was very unlikely but he did not seem the type to appreciate being told that his grandson had just been witness to something fouler. She sighed once he mentioned that the shovel was still in sight.

"You did not bury them alive, did you Missus Edelstein?" Romulus asked, his voice far too calm for such a question. He did not looked surprised, either, awaiting a response with a firm composure.

Erzsébet blinked, taken aback by the accuracy of his question, "Mister Vargas, what kind of-"

"Do not think me a fool, Missus Edelstein. I know those stains on your face are not branch scratches and the shovel was most likely used as a weapon as well as for its purpose. My grandson had better be safe. If he is not, I will rescind our agreement."

Erzsébet hummed, "Feliciano and Roderich are barricaded in the library. I would never allow your grandson to come to harm. Not under my care. He is much too precious to us. He is like our son, since we do not have children of our own."

"Well, it is supper and he should really be going home now. His brother is waiting for him and I am sure you understand that young boys should not be left alone long." Romulus spoke calmly, waiting to be allowed his grandson.

"Yes, Mister Vargas." She agreed and made her way to the library, whistling a tune to be allowed in. She was still surprised he had been so apt to read her course of action so well from a few hints. Roderich opened the door, Feliciano clinging to the bottom of his doublet. The boy had his eyes closed tightly until Roderich tapped his shoulder.

Feliciano ran to his grandfather as soon as he laid eyes on the man, shaken. The man picked up the child and bid the couple farewell. He was carrying the boy home as the latter whimpered conversation about what he had seen and how frightened he was. Romulus kissed the boy's head and hummed him a lullaby, though he still believed the boy too old for such a thing. If it would soothe the child, he was not against it. Feliciano was so young and far too pure of heart for such dark things.

He opened the door and began singing a song he knew Lovino was not fond of as a sign for him to exit the cellar. The older of his two grandsons waited a moment before he threw open the cellar door and asked him to shut up. His body had seized up when the footsteps signaled someone else was in the home. He had waited for the song to carry on a little longer before making his way out. He studied his brother and grandfather for signs of danger and sighed deeply.

Feliciano asked for more of the song as Lovino, pale from fear and cold, clutched the table and cried a little. He was not usually this expressive around others, but he made the exception out of exhaustion. He had not cried this much since their parents' burial. He was so relieved to have them home, not knowing that the forty minutes he had waited for them were a lot more tiring for him than for them.

He cried at the table as his grandfather served Feliciano. His sniffling had quieted down by the time the eldest at the table had seated himself. They prayed before the meal and Lovino wondered if his shaky faith was any good. It had brought him back the pieces of his family he still had but he doubted his prayers had been answered for his sake. Rather for the sake of his grandfather and his little brother who could smile away a cardinal sin, Lovino sighed. Still, he was a good boy. He told himself so in hopes he would someday believe it. He was a pickpocket, a liar, and he was always dissatisfied with something, he reminded himself. He was a very bad child, borderline awful.

He sighed and ran his hands through his hair after the warm bath he shared with Feliciano. Was he good or bad, he never knew if he should ask. He was afraid of being given confirmation on the matter; he was bad and his own opinion was a good enough compass.

.

That night, Lovino stared restlessly at the ceiling, sighing heavily at the thoughts of the day. Working in the soil for Lady Bosch had been the highlight, if he were to be completely honest with himself. A workday having been enjoyable still struck him as odd but he was happy that he was still alive. It was not the best thought to go to bed on, but he was lost elsewhere. What other thing could he honestly be thankful for that day? He sighed and worried about pirates for a moment. Why was the government not taking more action against them? He would have to ask.

He was not trying to be harsh but he felt that Lars and Emma had been too soft in comparison to Erzsébet and the countries nearby. Pirates were a blight that should be exterminated. Every last one of them. He sighed, pirates disgusted him now that he had encountered some. He was repulsed, they deserved the highest punishment available.  
He remembered hearing that in other parts of Europe, the standard was to give them penalty of death. He felt that it was the only insurance they really could have against these types of people. If they were jailed, who was to say they did not return to the same acts as soon as they were free? Or else, what deterrent was there for anyone to become involved with piracy in the first place if not fear of death? He rolled over in bed and pulled his covers over his face. Those cretins did not deserve to walk the earth. He was sure of it.  
Just before falling asleep, he crossed himself as was his habit.


	2. II: January 1542

January 1542

He felt dizzy as the sun beat down on his back, his bare feet burning on the hot, creaking wood of the ship. In the six weeks he had been at sea, he had gotten used to the tilting of the boat and the sickening lurches of unexpected waves. He could keep his balance now but still lost his lunch at times. His body protested the changes from land to sea. His mind adapted faster than the rest of him. He still could not calm the ache in his chest from the separation. His family and he had been on a ship together, victims of a raid at sea. His parents he had not seen since but he was captured and taken from the vessel onto a Spanish Galleon that had obviously belonged to the naval forces. It too had fallen into the clasp of raiders and was now a less reputable vessel - a commandeered Galleon turned pirate ship.

He was still not used to waking in the cargo hold and doing chores. He was a captive in their control, and he feared what might happen if he ever disobeyed. He was always quick to do as told, not wishing to find out what possible punishments the pirates could conjure. He gulped down his unpleasant thoughts and breathed out deeply. It was not the time to think like this, he should be thinking about what the pirates had said. The planned landing was in Italy. He might know someone there, if they had not left the country since their last letter. He knew Emma Bosch, her step brother Lars, Roderich Edelstein and his wife Erzsébet. He decided he could go to one of them for help. Maybe they could find a way to save him from the pirates. He knew their families had been close and doubted they would refuse his plea. By the approximation he had made, they would arrive in March. It was currently January, so he gritted his teeth and told himself to hold on just a little longer.

Days at sea seemed so much longer than when he had been in New Spain. The land days went by quickly, since he was busy with many activities. He thought about the key he had tied to his thigh and the heavy wooden chest it opened. The chest he knew was on this ship, taken from his previous vessel along with many other valuables. It did not hold riches, but held food and seeds for planting. He had been able to keep this chest with him since it was not heavy enough to interest the pirates yet. They knew their loot well and had chosen the heaviest chests first. Those contained items of gold and silver, pottery and other precious crafts. His chest was not worth their immediate curiosity. The seeds he would find a way to deliver to Emma, the fruit he was eating by himself and the miscellaneous items he kept hidden away. He remembered survival methods he learned from the natives of New Spain. Especially the things he learned from the girl his family had taken in. That native girl was privy to many secrets of her people due to her mother's high rank. She had taught him in her innocence, as children are prone to disclose. He learned everything he could from her, though they had not originally gotten along. It was very helpful to remember her advice out at sea, reminding himself what he could eat from the plants his parents had gathered for research. It was his saving grace to know of both the New World items as well as the ones from his native Spain.

The boat lurched forward and the waves crashed over the sides, breaking at the helm of the vessel and landing a clear mist onto the wooden deck beneath the Spaniard boy's feet. The salt water felt cool on his hot body, he took a break to admire the color of the waves and the sun on the horizon, dipping down. Soon the hour would come and it would be time for him to take the speed of the boat with the knotted rope. He looked at his hands and sighed, wondering if the blistered skin would heal before he could reach the continent, not wishing to stand before Emma or Roderich with a working class appearance. Lars and Erzsébet would not mind much, he told himself, for it was true that they may have been of refined birth but they took it upon themselves to do "peasant work" with their hands. He looked behind him into the crow's nest and found that the shipmate there was very interested in the sky. It would soon turn to the starry visage that would tell them if they were on course. He sighed as another shipmate came with a small timepiece. It was time to take the speed of the ship, which meant Antonio would feel the burn of rope on his hands again and have to tug the object back up once the time was up so they could have it ready for the next speed reading. He took the wooden board and tossed it over, counting the lumps of rope he felt rush through his hands. The knots. He nearly complained, instead he grimaced as the rope went on into the water through his sore hands. It would all be for something if he kept his faith up. His religion was strong.

He bandaged his hands again, making sure to rub on some of the slime from the inside of the aloe plant. It was a salve-like slime and it was helping his hands heal from the roughness to which he was so unaccustomed. It was his nightly routine and he could do it almost asleep, which was good since by the time they told him he could sleep he was beyond exhausted to do anything which required too much thinking. He lay face down in bed and began to pray.

"Padre nuestro, que estas en el cielo..." His tired voice began. He sighed as he made the effort to ensure the prayer did not result in a muttered mess. He had been raised more respectful than that, if his choir boy background was not enough proof. He could also recite them in Latin, but that required more thinking than he was capable of since being captured. He looked up at the wooden ceiling, no more than the bottom of the true sleeping quarters. He was in the cargo hold below the true resting areas. He remembered when he had been in the quarters with his parents, the old ship had been nice. He had enjoyed the trip from Spain to the New World and had been enjoying the return voyage before the capture.

"The boy will be good," The captain of the pirate crew had grumbled. "At least that look on his face will serve some purpose."

Antonio had been reluctant to believe someone with such eloquent speech was a pirate. How was it possible, when he had also witnessed that same man read? An illiterate man turned pirate he could comprehend, but one who was able to take a book and make sense of the symbols bewildered him. Piracy was a vile, criminal act, no man of decent breeding would associate themselves with it Antonio reasoned. He resumed his prayers and hummed a little of a lullaby he had heard the indigenous mothers sing to their children in the New World. It was a song he could not take from his head, the girl had been humming it every night since they had taken her in as a house worker. Antonio sighed again, it was very pleasant to say they had taken her in as a house worker when the reality was different. The girl had been a child of a high-ranking couple in the people so they had collected her to save her from the ugly truth of land takeover. In exchange for saving her life, they had her teach them everything about the peoples and the land itself. They made her work for them in exchange for learning how to squeeze a profit from the land she had once called home and ran freely in. He closed his eyes and wondered if this was some divine retribution for the act, he was part of the family that took her from her parents and he was paying by being in her shoes. Himself a captive to some other people who worked him tirelessly until he was allowed to sleep, in exchange for his life. It was no different so he told himself to be like her and adapt to the life he had been thrown into. She had done so by learning Spanish and learning the mannerisms of a noblewoman, so he too should adapt. He should cling to the survival methods he had learned from the native girl. He should embrace his survival instinct. If her way was becoming noble, would his be becoming a pirate?


	3. III: The Spanish Boy

16 March, 1542

The sun had not yet fully risen into the sky when he reached the familiar iron gates. He kissed the cold metal and ran his hands over the design. After ninety-two days at sea exactly, most of which he had spent as a captive, he had reached land. He had run from the captors at his first chance, asking in town how to reach the botanist's house. Someone had given him directions through shortcuts and little-known streets. He had taken them to memory within minutes and wasted no time running in the prescribed path. He had spent a few hours of the night in an abandoned chicken coop. When he had rested enough, he had set off at a full sprint toward the metal gates he longed for. When he kissed the gate, he returned himself to the present and climbed over the revered entrance. He had found Emma Bosch and Lars Nielsen, he would be safe with them, he told himself so as he made his way from the trees to the unseeded plots of earth.

He knelt and dug his hands in the soil, lifting it to his chest and taking a deep breath. He opened up the burlap satchel and began planting the seeds into the ground. These seeds from the New World would be very helpful in Emma's research. He also already knew about the plant and could tell her a few things once he saw her. He had kept his promise to bring any vegetation he could to her so she could study it. He was waiting to surprise her with the newly planted plot. It was barely dawn, but his gratitude of having made it to the continent alive meant he was too excited to care about the early hour.

The gate finally swung open and he looked expectantly, eager to see Emma or Lars standing there. Instead of the siblings his gaze met with a scowl. A boy younger than he was looking down at him, his face set in anger. Antonio did not know what to make of this situation, his heart clenching at the thought that Emma and Lars were no longer in Italy and he was intruding on someone else's property. He gulped down and opened his mouth, unable to say a word before the boy walked to the door and knocked. He was more determined to get someone out of the home than to confront the stranger who was crouched on the dirt and taking his job by the look of things.

"Wait! Please, I believed this was Emma Bosch and Lars Nielsen's home. I apologize for intruding on you. Please, I meant no trouble." Antonio called out, a little panicked.

"It is, but my concern is that you are gardening. Tending to the garden is my work. If I have been replaced, I must know." Lovino answered with a tone of coldness.

The Spaniard laughed, "Not at all, I am an old friend of hers. I just wished to surprise her with my return from the New World. I brought her back seeds as I promised. Please, I am not an intruder, I am simply fulfilling what promise I have made. I meant no trouble."

"Well, I still cannot simply take your word. I must confirm it with Lady Bosch. Or Lord Nielsen if he is to answer the door." The Italian answered, undeterred.

The door finally opened and both siblings stood in the doorway. Lady Bosch was dressed in a plain morning gown, fit for barely having risen from bed. Lars was already fully dressed to go to the market, as his trade was different than his sister's. Lovino greeted them both accordingly and they each gave him his greeting in return but they were fixed on the plot of dirt where they could see another boy was standing and, to Emma's trained eye the, soil had been disturbed. Emma made her way past Lovino and toward the second boy, trying not to be concerned. If the soil her assistant had been working on was ruined, she would have to have him redo the work on this plot first before she could give him another assignment and the efforts of the winter would have been lost to a single day of disturbance.

"Lady Bosch, pardon me for starting without you but I have fulfilled my promise to you. I have brought you back seeds from the New World. I have planted them already, all the same in a single row as you had taught me before. I have here in my satchel some more and some samples not yet planted. I also brought you sketches of the plants made by an artist in the New World. Hopefully they will be of use to you." Antonio spoke calmly.

Emma was astounded by the sight before her. This was certainly Antonio, but not as she remembered him. He was filthy, his body was thin and his skin a little sunken in places, his hair was longer than it should be, and his usually smooth hands were rough and calloused. There was no remedy to make him again into the rich heir of the Fernández Carriedo family. She tried to reconcile his current state with the last, lively Antonio she had seen but could not. This was an Antonio unknown to her, one who had clearly gone through rough times she could not fathom.

"Where are your parents, Antonio?" She asked at last, wanting to gauge his situation from his reaction.

The boy's eyes immediately clouded and he swallowed hard, he had been holding on to a frail dream on his days at sea but faced with the question she had posed him it shattered to give way to the undeniable truth. It was time for him to face that the probability of his parents being dead far outweighed the possibility of them being alive. He looked up at her with a thinly veiled ache in his chest as he spoke, "It is very likely they are deceased, Lady Bosch. Our ship was raided at sea and I have not seen them since. It is only possible that they were killed. I have escaped my captors just recently and came to ask for refuge. I will work, I will be your house boy if necessary, just please do not cast me out."

Lovino watched as the other boy neared groveling. He would have felt sorry for the child if he was not so suspicious of the attire in which he was clothed. He looked so much like the pirates he had had the misfortune of encountering merely months ago. His memory came to him vivid and frightening, he was not going to trust the boy even if Lady Bosch did. To him the ratty clothes and the smell of salt was enough to convince him the child was a pirate converted out of a well-bred child. He had to have been of good breeding if Emma and Lars were so easygoing with him. There was no superiority between them either one way or the other and it was because of this treatment Lovino suspected the boy had been telling the truth earlier. Beyond that single truth, Lovino would not trust him further, his mind was made up.

"It would be improper for Emma to house you." Lars responded. "I am traveling to Holland tomorrow to meet with some clients. After that I shall return to the hunt so I may procure more furs to sell. There is an alarming number of wolves by the German border, I might be of some service in driving the numbers down as well as gaining from the hunt. You cannot come with me either, as unskilled as you are you would be a hindrance to any hunting expedition. Forgive me for sounding harsh as I do, but I cannot allow you to stay with my sister unsupervised. I also cannot take you with me."

Lovino could see the heartbreak in the boy's eyes. He still said nothing, simply continuing on his work of making neat the rough planting the other had done. He was silent though he felt the other deserved what was being dealt to him by circumstance. He had tarnished himself by living with pirates rather than what he assumed his parents had done and fought to perish with honor. Lady Bosch stooped beside him and tapped his shoulder, tearing him from his dark thoughts. "Lady Bosch, what is it I can help you with?"

"Lovino, I know this may be much to ask, but do you think your grandfather would be willing to house him? His family and ours has a long history and it pains us to turn him away, it truly does but Lars has even barely agreed that you continue working for me while he is gone. To house a boy by myself is utterly out of the question, my late father would have said the same. Lars means not to be harsh, just to uphold what duty a father has since I am without. Please, would you consider asking your grandfather this? We can house him tonight only for tomorrow Lars will leave. He will work alongside you, he will receive pay enough to cover his meals, his clothes and board if need be as well. I assure you once we can return him to his status in Spain, we will. Please, consider this, as a favor to me."

Antonio brightened at her words and turned to Lovino, who looked utterly lost in the matter. He hoped that the boy would ask, he would beg though only a few months ago it had been unthinkable to beg. Lovino sighed and murmured something the boy did not catch before agreeing to ask but not promising anything due to the matter being in his grandfather's ultimate decision. Lady Bosch thanked him on behalf of not only her family but Antonio's as well. The Spanish boy took his cue and thanked the other himself. It seemed as though Lovino was disinterested in his thanks, only caring for Emma's. It was subtle but the change in the boy's demeanor toward him compared to his demeanor toward Emma and Lars showed that there was some disgust or distaste. Either way, the two boys worked the earth after that small exchange in silence.

The afternoon sun had left them covered in sweat and exhausted them faster than the cool breezes in the morning had. They would not have noticed the time had been so long in their diligent silence if it had not been for the gate opening slightly and a small voice chirping that permission was requested to enter. Lars turned and recognized the owner of the voice at once, granting the permission. A boy very similar to Lovino, but younger and more cheerful entered the gate, followed by a wavy haired brunette woman and her refined husband. Lovino had turned as well, recognizing his younger brother's voice from the first syllable.

"Lady Bosch, Lord Nielsen, pardon us this unannounced intrusion." The refined husband spoke.

"What intrusion? Do not think that way Lord Roderich." Lars gave a short response.

"We have brought Feliciano. He comes with an invitation." The wavy haired brunette smiled.

"Tomorrow is my birthday, I know it is not much what my small family can offer but we would be grateful if you could join us." Feliciano recited, obviously having practiced the sentence many times.

Antonio turned at last, his eyes widening. The cheerful voice was coming from someone who although so similar to the boy beside him was clearly so different. He wondered if Lovino's smile looked like this new child's, he wondered if his voice was ever that cheerful. It was a voice and presence that put all at ease, as if the angels themselves had gifted this child serenity in his entire being. If Lovino was like this child when in a good mood, the days working for Emma might not be so tiresome. Then, he stopped himself there. He had no guarantee that Lovino's grandfather would agree to house him. The serenity broke and his heart ached again, he was feeling this hopelessness when Feliciano approached him.

"I have not seen you before. I am Feli, good to meet you! Your name? Can I know your name?" The excitable boy chattered, despite the sighs and soft laughs of the elders.

"Ah, I am Antonio. Pleasure to meet you little Feliciano." The Spaniard smiled, feeling calm again.

"You can call me Feli! Please call me Feli. Feliciano is so long and formal, friends should not be formal, we are friends no?" The small Italian rambled.

Antonio smiled, his spirits lifting. "Very well, Feli. I will call you as you ask me to. I am sorry, you look so similar to this boy here. Are you related?"

"Of course! He is my brother, Lovi." Feli grinned.

"Lovino." The older boy corrected between gritted teeth.

"You are invited too, Antonio! I am sure grandfather will say the more the merrier. I could invite the whole town but we would not all fit in the house and it is not very nice to have guests outside, right? I would think that this is enough, I am fine with this many people. That is merrier than just Lovino, grandfather, and me."

Erzsébet smiled a little and took Feliciano by the hand, "Come now, Feliciano. We should take you home. Your grandfather will be waiting for you."

Antonio waved goodbye to the departing trio and caused them to stop. Roderich and Erzsébet turned and with slightly surprised faces they recognized Antonio.

"Antonio? Son of Viscount and Viscountess Fernández Carriedo?" Roderich spoke tentatively.

"Viscount? When did this happen? Then I am... what?" Antonio looked shocked. As far as he was concerned they were of equal rank, Lords and Ladies the lot of them. If his family had been of higher ranking, he feared it was not the ship but the passengers the raiders had been after.

"There is a big difference between a Lord and a Viscount, Roderich. Are you not mistaken?" Lars tried gently.

"I am certain. I have my ties to Spain and it was his family that I recall clearly. The heir of the Viscount has finally been born. It is a boy, named Antonio. Those words I will never forget, for I was nearly betrothed to the Viscount myself. His family and mine had an accord, should I have been born a girl I would have been arranged to marry the Viscount. His family and mine maintained close ties until my marriage to Erzsébet. We met Antonio when he was an infant, then saw him rarely after moving here to Italy. It is him, I am certain. His parents were no Lord nor Lady. Viscount and Viscountess, though they never flaunted their title and mingled below their own rank."

"Was he not a Baron?" Emma asked, almost too quietly.

"He was promoted in rank before he traveled to the New World, as many were. There was need for leadership in the new lands and with promise to be ascended, many made the voyage. I just am not certain if he remained Viscount or further ascended to Count." Roderich reported calmly.

Feliciano looked at Loving before grinning. "You made a friend with royalty Lovi!"

"Nobility, Feliciano. The only royals are kings and queens." Erzsébet corrected sweetly as they made their way out of sight. Feliciano gave a look back as they walked, leaving the two boys in the soil to their thoughts.

Lovino said nothing, his stomach churning. If Antonio was of higher rank than Lady Bosch and the Edelsteins, he found his situation a little more trying. He still distrusted the boy for being involved in piracy but if he was of noble birth, the Spaniard could very well order their family to house him and they had no right to refuse. He swallowed hard and went back to tending the soil.

"Happy birthday, Feli!" Antonio smiled, looking very different with his hair tied up neatly and a fresh change of clothes. These were hand me downs from Lars, but far better than the dirty tatters he had been clad in the day before.

Everyone in the Vargas residence was cheerful, as if Feliciano radiated the feeling into the air itself. Laughter and singing filled the room, music came from a violin Roderich had brought along for the occasion. Lord and Lady Bosch were dressed as if attending a formal dinner while Lady and Lord Edelstein were dressed as if they were at an informal dance. The array of clothing was humorously mismatched but it made no difference to the attendants of the festivity. Feliciano was overjoyed just to know they had decided to join his small family in celebrating. The air was merry and spirits were bright until there came the time to part. Antonio would be staying with the Vargas family from then on, as Mister Vargas had had no objection to the boy. He had said there was no need for the boy to pay board and that the food was plentiful. His earnings he could keep for himself so he could buy clothes and things to suit his tastes. Antonio was overjoyed, thanking the man over and again for his kindness.

Feliciano, Lovino, and Antonio now shared a room, Mister Vargas having procured a third bed from the attic. The boys had helped assemble the object and once it had been finished, had made the bed neatly. They slept in the same room, woke at the same time and took breakfast together before Feliciano was picked up by the Edelsteins and the remaining boys made their way to tend the botanical garden in Emma Bosch's house.

The first few days, Lovino did not direct a single more word to Antonio than necessary. After listening to his younger brother and the older boy speak so much, he gave in and spoke to the Spaniard himself. Antonio had been taught how to plunder, and he had been tested already, Lovino learned. He had also a great knowledge of seafaring from his days out on the seas as a captive. This was not what the Italian wanted to hear about but it was unlikely Antonio spoke of it to discomfort the boy. He spoke so because he wanted to alleviate the despair it had caused in him to live through such a thing. He had done so out of necessity to survive and he had even begged for forgiveness before. In his sleep he had pleaded for forgiveness for his thievery. Lovino felt bad for the other boy and slowly befriended him. Slowly but surely they bonded, Antonio sharing a secret with the older of the two Italians.

"I think the pirates were after my family because we were so rich. Our home in New Spain and the one in Spain itself are so lavish and beautiful. Oh, one day to return, I would do anything. If only I could return home, what I would do to go to my home once more. Anything at all." He whispered one night, climbing into Lovino's bed.

Lovino felt his heart clench, "Surely not _anything, _right?"

Antonio sighed, "Oh, anything! _Anything at all."_

A sickening thought came over Lovino and he pretended to yawn to be left alone to his thoughts. Antonio sounded desperate but he truly did not mean just anything, or did he?


	4. IV: Lady María del Carmen

Sunday, 15 February, 1545

Romulus Vargas chided his two grandsons as they sat down. True, they had just returned from church, but their faces were so glum that Romulus doubted they had felt any better after confiding their troubles to the priest. Lovino already had his hands around the rosary and was praying all the Hail Marys, Rosaries and Our Fathers he had been told to as penitence for whatever he had confessed. Romulus did not ask, simply allowed Lovino to go on doing what he needed to like a good Catholic child. Feliciano, however, was looking sadly at a painting he had made, which hung on the wall now, crooked. In the painting, Lovino and Antonio were peacefully resting in the garden they tended in Lady Bosch's home. It was a beautiful painting, even in Roderich's critical eye. Feliciano had painted the scene from the heart, putting his best effort into every stroke.

The painting was all they had left of Antonio. One day Lovino had woken up and found the bed next to his empty. Antonio had left a note behind, explaining he had found a way home. He thanked them for their kindness and would return when he could. So far, two years had passed and Antonio was nowhere to be found. Lovino had not told anyone that Antonio planned on returning to Spain, nor did he mention that he was so desperate he had said he would to absolutely anything. He was lost in his thoughts when there was a knock on the door. Just like he had for two years now, he hoped Antonio was behind it, grinning stupidly and apologizing for being late. He had such a habit, after all.

He peered at the door and his prayers were half answered. A man, a knight who served the Count, was standing with a poster in his hands. "Wanted Dead Or Alive" the top read, followed by a likeness of Antonio and ended with the inscription "For the following crimes: Piracy, Thievery, Impersonating a Spanish Noble, Crimes against the Spanish and Italian Crowns. Reward for his capture. Inquire with Count Lorenzini." Loving clasped his hand over his mouth and pulled Feliciano and the painting inside their room. He hid the painting below the bed and warned Feliciano not to retrieve it. Then, having secured his brother and the painting were out of sight, he stood at the doorway with his grandfather, playing the part of a curious child.

"What does the good sir want, Grandfather?" He asked quietly, as if he were shy.

"Have you seen this man, little one? He has done terrible things and must be punished. Do not be afraid to say yes. You will not be punished yourself if you do. On the contrary, rewarded handsomely. Have you seen him?" The knight spoke with too much gentleness, as if to an infant.

The fear in Lovino's eyes was not an act unlike the rest of this performance before the knight. He knew that face well, it wrenched his heart to admit so. He stammered a no and shrank behind his grandfather, fear getting the better of him and making his eyes well with tears. Antonio had been a great friend in the time he had stayed with them. They had confided in each other many things. Lovino's trust for the other had grown greatly. He could not simply give the other away after all they had lived together. He prayed silently and hoped his altar boy status meant something. He had been praying more than he remembered doing before, ever since Antonio's departure. He clung to his rosary, prayed to his cross and lit candles at the church, making prayers there as well.

It was a daily act for him now, different from the Sunday-only fervor he had previously had. He had someone to pray for and something to beg with all his might for, he wasted no time in doing so. Even when he was tending the soil, the same soil he and Antonio had tended together before, he was praying. He spent every moment he could, clinging to his faith, fighting his fear. He could not explain why Antonio mattered so much to him, but he felt as if the other had bared his soul to him. Antonio had trusted Lovino with things Lovino would have only trusted a priest or, if possible, only God. It was this that Lovino treasured more than anything else, the immense trust this tainted boy had in him. Though Lovino had cast him aside before, writing him off as a simple pirate, he had a different opinion now. Logically, it should have been in the reverse, trusting the Spanish boy when he had escaped capture and distrusting him now that his head had a price on it. It made no sense at all to him, but he felt that the powers that be had some plan that was incomprehensible to him now. It would all make sense in the end, he trusted.

Antonio tore the Wanted poster from the town bulletin and read it over. Count Lorenzini had set a price on his head, but he was not alone. His head had a price in Britain and Spain as well. He put the paper in his belt, next to the pistol he now carried. His face was set in a scowl for a moment before he reacted. He had reached his home in the New World, where his head was not hunted. He had taken much from the family home there, including the serving girl who had learned to speak and act formally. The native girl had been tending to the house and keeping it in pretty order, unaware that her masters were dead save for the boy not much older than she, who was now a pirate. She had welcomed him all the same, saddened by his news that the Viscount and Viscountess were dead. When he ordered her to join him in his voyage to return, she had no objections.

It was in the home in Spain where she had discovered his current situation. She did not protest, for she was well-fed and treated kindly just as she had been in her homeland. He went out to pillage towns and raid ships as part of a crew who had deceived him two years ago. Still, he had offered himself as a crewmate voluntarily. He was nobody to refuse orders from the Captain. His noble birth meant nothing unless he could verify it. He had not bothered to try and was discovered by a shipmate who denounced the "impostor" to the Spanish crown in hopes of receiving a reward for it. Of course just denouncing an impostor was not sufficient to attain a reward and the shipmate had told the story as follows:

"We have one in our company who claims to be the deceased son of the Viscount and Viscountess Fernández Carriedo of New Spain. We, being pirates as we are, have known for two years that some of our own kind, though not of our crew killed the Viscount and his wife. The son was captured but never seen again after reaching shore. Good sir, 'what chance of survival does a runaway who escapes from pirates have?' I shall tell you. None. Any who try to escape are killed for betrayal. Even if the child did escape, he would be dead now. This false noble should be arrested." The greedy shipmate had reported, a smirk on his lips.

Of course the Baron who listened to the story had been intrigued, but it was not in his power to rule the young man an impostor even if presented with the suspect. He had taken the matter to his superiors until the tale reached the crown. Since the shipmate had clearly said the suspect was a pirate, the crimes of piracy were added to the crime of impersonation. Antonio had heard word of the betrayal but knew he could prove his birthright if he returned to Italy. There he had left the chest he had treasured so dearly when he had been a captive. He had left the chest with Lovino, the key hung around the boy's neck. It was his life, truly, and he had found Lovino to be the only one he could give it to. How he could return to Italy, he had no idea. Not until he saw Mazatl, the native girl, in the house one day. She was mending a dress that had belonged to his mother out of sheer boredom and reverence to the deceased Viscountess. Of course, he knew her name now, but still thought of her as María. It was the name they had been given for her when they had rescued her from the fray of disasters.

"María, are you good enough a seamstress to modify the dress? I wish to don it myself so I may travel to Italy." He had spoken without wavering though the idea was strange.

"I believe so. I altered many dresses while waiting for your family's return. It was how I spent the days, earning a little so I could keep the house stocked for your return." She admitted, looking up from her needle.

"Then, measure me and alter some of my mother's clothes to fit me. If they are searching for a male pirate, they will not think to suspect a Lady." He commented firmly. Mazatl set off to work, precisely measuring her master and taking the women's clothes she was to modify into the sewing room.

Antonio was patient, waiting nearly two weeks for the wardrobe to be fitted for him. He also learned to make up his hair and face, thankful he had not yet sported stubble. Once his face, hair and clothes made him look like a woman, he used his choir training to imitate a sweet voice, taking his Mazatl's voice as an example. He worked for nearly a month until all was ready. He was simply lacking shoes. His mother's were too small to fit him. He went to a shoemaker and asked for shoes in the matching style to what he had, presenting his mother's shoes as examples. It took more time but by the time March was waning to give way to April, his disguise was ready. He had even stopped referring to Mazatl as María, calling her Mazatl and taking her into town. It was as if he were truly a lady with her servant.

Once they had established themselves as Lady María del Carmen and Mazatl, her imported serving girl, he made a purchase of a horse and hired a repairman to fix the worn carriage his family owned. Having accomplished a complete disguise, he set off with Mazatl toward Italy. His heart longed for the Lake and the town of Bracciano. It was on the outskirts of the same that the Vargas house stood. The voyage would be long from Spain to the charming, worn house he yearned for, but he did not mind. He was on his way, it was merely a matter of time and no other obstacle that "Lady María del Carmen" would pay a visit to the Vargas family.

He tried to imagine Lovino, tired from work, smiling wearily at his dinner. He must have grown in two years, he would be twelve in December. Feliciano would be ten, the very age his brother had been when Antonio had seen them last. Antonio was now fourteen, and he had certainly grown since he had seen the family. Of course, the heavy cosmetics, hair extensions and clothing would mask his true face, that was their purpose. Still, he hoped Lovino would be able to see through the disguise, though he did not know why. He just knew he longed for the warm atmosphere of the Vargas house and the annoyed pouting of Lovino's face. It was this he wanted more than he had wanted to return home when he had two years ago. The empty manor had meant nothing, the price he had paid for attaining his dream had not been worth it. He longed for the creaking steps of the front porch which led to the door to the happiest he had been since being captured. It was all he could think of as he rested next to Mazatl in the carriage.

For Lent, Lovino had given up the guitar. It was the second year he had given up the guitar. Antonio had taught him some melodies on it, and Lovino learned from Roderich as well. Still, Antonio's hands had been gentler and his voice less reprimanding. It was as if Antonio was giving Lovino a piece of himself when he taught. Feliciano had given up desserts, which was difficult for him. Still, he knew how badly Lovino yearned for anything of Antonio's, so he gave up what he felt was hardest in empathy. He felt that it could not possibly be the same, but he could not comprehend why anything to do with Antonio caused his brother so much pain. He spoke to his grandfather about the matter, but the man was somber in his quiet reserve. He did not have an answer. He wished to be able to give one, but that was a matter for Lovino alone. Feliciano tried his best to cheer his brother up, but Lovino was usually out of reach. He was tending Lady Bosch's garden, learning of the plants whenever he did not have to tend to them. He spent his free time in the garden as well, learning about the discovery Emma had made from the New World plant Antonio had brought her.

"Lovino, you see the seed clusters? And the flower form? Does it remind you at all of anything?" She had asked him, excited to see what he responded.

Lovino had been baffled at the question. Emma could not possibly be asking him a question about botany, he was no help in the matter. Then, after a few moments of thought, his eyes wandered over to a plant he had to be very careful when tending. It was the belladonna plant, his eyes widened when he looked back at the mystery plant. They looked similar in their blooms, though one yellow and the other purple. Opposite colors, but their forms were short of becoming one. He then recalled Emma showing him a cut belladonna berry. The fruit she had in her hand was a yellow version of the same!

"New World Belladonna?" Lovino asked shyly.

"So you see it as well! This plant has to be from the Solanaceæ family. It matches so well with the Belladonna, does it not?" Emma smiled. It was true, she had confirmed it with Lovino's own guess. Lovino was Italian to the core, the Belladonna plant was surely one he had encountered many times. She knew children in Italy were warned of the berry, warned of the flower. It was death in a beautiful mask. If Lovino had been suspicious of the New World plant when it had been growing it had not been without good reason, for it was as if belladonna was sprouting before him.

Emma told him again, "It must be of some relation to the Solanaceæ family. Atropa Belladonna is, so why not this plant? It must be a Solanum something."

Lovino made no comment, simply pruning the plants again. Emma was sketching and writing, engrossed in her discovery. Lent would go by more quickly if Emma was this excited over the plant. She had no one but him and Millicent to share the news with, and Millicent was very often hard to find. Most of her excitement was usually shared equally between Lars and Lovino but Lars was somewhere in Scandinavia. He had written once to ask about her and her research but since his voyage would soon be over, her response was not met with another letter. He would be home sooner than a letter would arrive. Surely, if he had found any vegetation of interest he would take it to bring her.

Lovino was tired from pruning when he climbed the orange tree and pulled some down as Millicent had asked him. She had not specified an amount so he took a dozen and climbed back down, taking them to the kitchen for her. She was smiling and thankful, promising him a dessert if he wished for one. Emma was washing her hands thoroughly after touching the plants, telling Lovino to do the same. He followed orders and retired outside, coaxed back inside by Emma. Millicent was making some sort of dessert with the oranges and Lovino asked if he could help with anything while they waited. Emma and Millicent both let him know it was all right and he could relax. Lovino found his hands on his rosary again, he prayed silently. He also touched the key that Antonio had left around his neck the day he had departed. This made him sigh wistfully before he caught himself.

"It is Antonio you pray so much for, is it not? I had never seen you such a devout Catholic until he disappeared. Now, his head has a price upon it, surely you have learned this by now. Your prayers have increased for his sake, am I wrong?" Emma spoke gently, her hand on his.

"Oh, him I pray for more than anything. Also for forgiveness. I should have told someone that Antonio was desperate to find a way home. Had I spoken when I should have, he would not be a hunted man." Lovino replied, his voice cracking.

Emma hugged the boy and kissed his forehead. "Oh child, what could words have done against an iron will?"

He was soothed by her words as Millicent served them the orange dessert she had made. He ate and thanked them both, washing the dishes despite Millicent and her protests. He felt that there was a weight lifted from his shoulders as he made his way home. His grandfather was used to him coming home later now, since Antonio's departure Lovino had refuged himself in work. It was Feliciano who still waited at the window for him at five o'clock. Lovino expected this to be the case. He would find Feliciano at the window, waiting anxiously.

It was because he was waiting for Lovino that Feliciano saw the carriage first. It was an ornately decorated carriage with a Spanish horse. He did not recognize the object nor the creature so he opened the door and bounded out to see just who called. He tried peering in discreetly but the door opened before he could sneak back inside. It was a girl with dark skin, plaited hair and a linen dress, she was no older than him but her attitude was serious and her movements graceful. She helped another down from the carriage, a made up woman with pulled back, curled hair and green eyes. Her dress was of fine silk, and her appearance and mannerisms matched the aura of elegance. She was careful in her step, turning to Feliciano once she saw him.

"You must be Feliciano. Is your grandfather, Romulus home? I am Lady María del Carmen of Spain. May I speak with him?" The woman asked, her voice almost sad.

"I will fetch him for you, your Ladyship." Feliciano answered, going inside. He returned with the man, who chided him and apologized for the child's rudeness to the Lady. He asked her and her serving girl inside, insisting that they should rest in the couches after such a long journey. He offered them refreshments, which Lady María del Carmen refused but the serving girl accepted. It was when Romulus asked to what did he owe the honor of a Lady's presence that things became a little tense.

"Is your older grandson home?" Asked the lady.

"No, Lady María, he has not returned from tending to Lady Bosch's garden. Surely, he will be soon. Is there something the matter concerning my Lovino?" The grandfather posed warily.

"There was something I wished to discuss with him. If I may, what age do you find too young for betrothal?" She responded, stunning the man.

The grandfather tried to respond, but words did not come. The door opened and the boy in question appeared behind it, surprised to see that no one had greeted him and understanding once he saw the lady and her servant. Lovino greeted them all, taken aback when the prettily clad young woman approached him.

"Lovino, come outside with me. I must speak to you alone." The lady called, getting up and taking the boy by the arm. Lovino did not protest, but looked back with wide eyed confusion to his grandfather and younger brother. They said nothing as the lady and he crossed the threshold and she closed the door behind them.

The Lady wrapped her arms around Lovino and took his hands in hers, confusing the boy. He did not do much but squirmed and looked at her with mouth slightly open. It was not until she let go that he was able to speak.

"Pardon me, dear Lady. Is this not improper? I do not knowー"

"Oh, Lovino, how I have missed you. It is me, Antonio. I cannot come as such because there is a price on my head but oh, I longed to see you. Please, do you forgive me taking so long to come back to you?" The "Lady" whispered, the voice choked and apologetic.


	5. V: Atropa Belladonna

2nd May, 1546

Lovino got used to Lady María del Carmen visiting and asking for him alone. Feliciano learned to predict the time the visitor would arrive and waited at the window after returning from the Edelsteins. He would lean on the sill and look out the window, bouncing to the door and opening it for her. He even fetched Lovino if he was home or kept her company until his brother arrived. Feliciano would then take Mazatl around, teaching her the streets and introducing her to anyone they met along the way. He befriended the girl though her Italian was broken and accented. He was patient and friendly with her, correcting her kindly whenever she was wrong. In exchange, she told him the tales of her people and introduced him to the games the children would play.

Feliciano was eager for the four-thirty visit from Lady María and Mazatl. He was always complimented by the Lady, and he returned her compliments. Mazatl was always eager to have something to do while her master was occupied. Feliciano had taken her to the market twice, the second time asking if she recalled what he had told her during the first. She was careful to pronounce the items for sale and the names of the vendors. He was proud of her and took her to a small, abandoned garden as a prize. He had promised to take her before and her eyes lit up, she loved flowers and made him a crown of some she found pretty. This made Feliciano ecstatic, and he made her a crown as well. The pair had returned to see Lovino giving Lady María a tender kiss on the forehead and the woman whispering that she loved him.

They had pretended not to see and gone inside to show Romulus the crowns. The pair were innocently holding hands, their faces smiling and bright. Feliciano then called Mazatl a princess and she had called him a prince. The pair had started dancing on the hallway floor, Feliciano twirling her and Mazatl laughing shyly. Mazatl had picked Feliciano up and carried him, the boy laughing and telling her his crown had fallen. The pair had kept Romulus' attention, for they seemed so close. He watched them lay on the floor and tell stories, tickling each other or playing with each other's hair and hands until they looked a mess. Romulus knew them to be children and their games were nothing but childish but he still sighed at the sight of Feliciano calling a girl his princess.

Romulus thought his years had slipped him by. His ten year old grandson was awakened in his liking for girls, always making them smile and laugh. His twelve year old was so clearly taken by the Lady who paid them a daily visit. He sighed to himself and remembered his only son. How he loved a girl from a town away and had married her when she was fifteen. He had been only a year older, but he had been good to her. Romulus could remember his Alessandro diligently going to fish, selling his catch at the market to make a life with her. He could still remember Maddalena, the pretty girl his son had married, when she had come at his arm to tell Romulus that he was to be a grandfather. He remembered when Lovino had been born, a cold December night with rain pelting the house. Alessandro had been more nervous than his wife, and had asked for Romulus to help him. The midwife had asked for a name and Maddalena had said Lovino, easily smiling up at her husband. Romulus remembered the baptism vividly, Lovino had cried in protest to the holy water poured on his forehead. He remembered how his son and daughter-in-law had been at a loss when trying to name their second son. It had been Romulus to suggest Feliciano, for the boy looked as if he were smiling. They had taken the name and so christened their younger son. He wondered just how it was possible that the two infants had become two grown boys, nearly ready to make lives themselves. He was thinking this when Lovino had come to him with a question he remembered the boy's father asking years before.

"Grandfather, how do you know if you are in love?" He asked, his eyes sober and patient.

"Oh, I cannot tell you how you _should _feel but I can tell you what you _may _feel." Romulus had replied, punctuating his sentence with a sigh.

"How?"

"A day without them feels empty and wasted. You wish to hold them. You want to kiss them. You want to wake up and see their smile and go to sleep only after wishing them sweet dreams."

"It is different than what we feel for family, right?"

"Not by very much. I give you and Feli kisses and wish you good night and my days would be so sad without you. The difference between romantic love and familial is that with a romance, you wish to settle with them, to give them yourself as you will never again. Romantic love becomes familial once you have become family. I felt so, your father felt so. I cannot say if you will the same, but love is never saying goodbye."

"Even when they have gone?"

"I have never said goodbye to your father nor your grandmother. I will never to you nor Feliciano, either."

"But we say goodbye every day, I do not understand."

"Ah, but we have always met again. We always return to each other. It is not never saying the words aloud, no. It is never letting them go in here, your heart does not say goodbye. In your heart they stay, do you understand?"

"Oh, no matter how far we are, Feliciano and you are in my thoughts. Is that what you mean? I could be across the sea and still have you here with me."

"No matter how many goodbyes, how many farewells, you are never truly gone. That is love."

"That is love."

Under the guise of Lady María del Carmen, Antonio had asked for Lovino's hand. Lovino had nearly lost his nerve but he did not protest when his grandfather agreed to the request. Of course, Antonio had told the man the truth after a little while passed. Romulus did not rescind his agreement, for if Antonio was truly a Viscount, that only meant the family's status would be raised when Antonio (as Lady María del Carmen) and Lovino married. Beside that point, Lovino's prayers had been answered when Lady María had asked for his hand, he had no right to take away what the powers that be had set in motion. "Lady María" stayed with them, in an unused room alongside Mazatl. Lovino woke every morning and took breakfast to Antonio, running his hands through the other's hair. Antonio woke every morning to the chides of Lovino telling him that he was wasting daylight. Mazatl always let them be and helped Romulus with the housework, leaving the pair to dissolve into sweet whispers and affectionate caresses.

Mazatl began working with Lovino, assisting the botany garden in its growth. It had been Romulus who suggested the girl work with his grandson, after having seen her tending carefully to the plants in their own garden. Lady Emma Bosch took Mazatl's knowledge of the plants from the New World to use for her research. Mazatl knew how to care for the plants from her homeland and they made her feel more at home. She told Emma of the plants and what uses the natives had given them, Emma eager to write. Mazatl spoke in Spanish, not yet very fluent in Italian and still speaking her native Nahuatl. Emma was able to understand the girl, for she spoke four tongues herself: French, Dutch, Spanish,and Italian. The two were able to exchange knowledge, Emma paying rapt attention to anything Mazatl had to say about plants and Mazatl learning Italian from Emma. It was through this exchange that Emma learned from Mazatl that there was a native name for the plant. "Xitomatl" Mazatl called it, saying it was different from the "tomatotl". Emma wrote the name down beside her own notes, making sure to note that the word was from the "Aztec girl (she) had been so fortunate to meet."

Emma learned of the popularity of "Lady María del Carmen" from town gossip and had the lady stay with her until the other could find a new home. She said rumor would spread that there were out-of-wedlock happenings if a Lady stayed with her betrothed before marriage. Emma knew the Lady to be Antonio, for he had told her, her brother and the Edelsteins. If he was to hide under the guise of Lady María del Carmen, then he had to behave like a Lady lest he give himself away, she had told him. Antonio had been reluctant, mostly because he enjoyed the attentions Lovino gave him in the mornings. Emma was no one he could argue with, so he took her advice and transferred to a new home, taking Mazatl along. He left behind the chest and key that held treasured things from his return voyage, when he had been captured, thinking them of little to no use now.

Lady María del Carmen now lived a house away from Lady Bosch and spent most days in her company. Lady María also spent time with Erzsébet, learning from both women how a Lady should and should not behave. The Lady still doted on Lovino, going on walks with him. She was not shy to have their arms linked at the elbows. Lovino was careful to treat his companion like a Lady, dropping the familiarity that they had always resorted to. He was just happy to have Antonio back, even under the theatrical act they had to perform when out in public. When they were alone, no eyes to watch them, they returned to their old selves. Antonio teased Lovino until the younger gave him a pout, which the Spaniard always took as invitation to wrap his arms around him. Lovino always protested but being held made his pout disappear and his rough, do-not-toy-with-me attitude resurface. He would scold the other and mutter things, turning away and refusing to look Antonio in the eyes until the other kissed his hands. He always kissed his hands and asked for forgiveness, Lovino always clicked his tongue before agreeing to forgive. It was an intimate, secret routine of theirs. Antonio had started it in the patch of soil they were watering one day. He had accidentally wet Lovino on the leg and had taken the boy's dirty hands in his, kissed them, and asked to be forgiven. Lovino had been shocked to be kissed while dirty and had given a flustered agreement to the request. Antonio had hugged him gratefully and Lovino had muttered some insults and demanded to be let go. The Spanish boy was compliant, from that moment on he riled the other up just to hold him close and ask for forgiveness. Lovino had caught on but by the time he had, he craved the embraces too much to make an ordeal out of finding out the scheme.

One afternoon after working the soil with Mazatl, Lovino washed up and went to visit Antonio. Mazatl opened the door for him and smiled lightly at the way he closed the door behind himself and picked up Antonio to swing him around and caress his face. They went to the attic and spent time on the floor, staring up at the wooden beams and holding hands. They kissed each other's hands and Lovino ran his fingers through the long, wavy hair that the other left loose. Antonio then rolled over and caressed his beloved's cheeks, looking longingly into the hazel eyes. The two were dissolved in this blissful act when Antonio sat up and reached for the guitar, playing a melody for Lovino. He absently added words to it, making a love song out of the melody, which made Lovino red. Lovino took the guitar, playing his own tune for the Spaniard. Antonio leaned against him and kissed his cheek, making Lovino pluck a wrong note in surprise. He complained about the disturbance and got up to leave, pulled into Antonio's arms suddenly. Lovino pushed the other away and stated that embraces were not apologies and that Antonio would drive him mad with a lifetime of this.

"Would you rather go mad with me or stay sane without?" Antonio asked, looking a little worried.

"Oh, Antonio, please not now. You drive me to anger then you tear at my heart so?" Lovino sighed, not returning to the other's open arms.

"I must know, after all... we are betrothed if you have forgotten."

"You make me mad, I would rather be alone than mad. But life without you would not be life at all. I would rather live a month mad and at your side than a century sane and without you." The Italian pulled his beloved into an embrace. "I love you and you only. Were I to live a hundred years, I shall only love you. My life without you would be empty of meaning."

Antonio buried his face in the other's neck and half-laughed, half-sighed. Lovino rubbed his back before he lifted his head and spoke, "The Viscount of New Spain was invited to a ball, come with me?"

Lovino's eyes widened, "Absolutely not. You had better not attend, yourself!"

"I do not see why not."

"The whole of Europe knows the Viscount of New Spain and his family to be dead. Have you forgotten there is a price on the head of an impostor who claims to be son of the Viscount? In case you have, that is your head! If you turn up at the ball, they will have you captured!"

"Then I shall attend as Lady María del Carmen, I see no problem with _her _being present."

"Does Lady María have an invitation herself?"

"No, but I can take the one I do have for the Viscount and use it for Lady María del Carmen. No one ever looks for the name on the invitation, they simply look for an invitation itself."

"I do not think this wise. Antonio, if you decide to go I shall divulge the secret of Lady María! For it will be just a quicker method to do what you wish to do."

"Oh, Lovino, you worry too much. Who could ever connect Lady María to the Viscount of New Spain?"

_"You _do not worry enough. If you are discovered you will be hung, or shot, or decapitated! There is a price on your head, do not take the risk."

"Cielo, I will not come to harm. You shall see. I will attend the ball and come to your arms again."

"If you go, you can forget about me. Do not call me 'Cielo' as you march yourself to certain death, it is insulting."

"You do not mean what you say." Antonio's voice was hiding the pain his face so clearly conveyed.

"I do. What good are wedding vows being 'Until death do us part' if you are to die before we marry?"

"Lovino, I will go and I will come out fine, you shall see."

"If you do not desist from your idea of dancing straight to your own capture, I break this engagement. Here and now. I am leaving now, you may come after me if you have decided to value your life above your pride once more."

"I shall go, just to prove you are too suspicious of the world. Then I will go to you again and we will marry, just as we have planned to do."

"Goodbye, my nightingale." Lovino closed his eyes as he made his way down. He bid Mazatl goodbye and ran home, a few stray tears rolling down his cheeks.

"_Atropa Belladonna_, or Belladonna is from the Solanaceæ family. Just like others of the family, it contains poison. The purple trumpet flowers are beautiful, and it is said the berry juice was used to make pupils larger to make women more beautiful. From this came the name Belladonna in Italy, for 'beautiful lady', which was what it was known for. That is to say, making women beautiful. The berries, if eaten cause hallucinations and spasms. Death comes after, and it is not a kind passing. Is it not beautiful to behold, Lady María?" Emma Bosch ended with a sigh. The Lady was looking at the Belladonna plant with sad, longing eyes. She had asked the botanist about Belladonna and about the New World plant that was so similar. Mazatl was tending it alone, Lovino busy with pruning the trees in the sides and back of the house.

"So this other plant you say is also a Solanaceæ plant?" The lady asked, looking at it with the same sad gaze.

Emma laughed, "There is no argument about that in the botanical community. However, someone has given this plant the title of strange eggplant. I can just hope they do not consume it."

"Pardon me, Lady Bosch. It is edible. Look." Mazatl chimed in, taking the ripe fruit and biting into it. She swallowed the thing, horrifying Emma and Antonio.

"Spit it out! Spit it out! Oh, foolish girl, what have you done?" Emma shrieked, running to her.

"Forgive me, I did not mean to frighten you! We eat this back in my homeland. When they ripen and are plump and soft we eat them. They are delicious not only alone but with other foods." Mazatl apologized.

"It can be eaten?" Emma murmured, surprised. She reached for one of the fruits but Mazatl stopped her.

"It must be ripe. If it is still unripe you can become ill." Mazatl explained, picking one that was ripened already. "This one you may eat, the one you reached for will make you ill."

Emma eagerly wrote these notes onto her page about the New World Solanaceæ plant. She also wrote the name she had heard the fruit called, _Solanum Lycopersicum. _Antonio looked surprised as Mazatl explained how to tell a ripened fruit from one "still green." The two were engrossed in their study of then plant but Antonio was preoccupied with Lovino. The branches had stopped rustling when Emma had shrieked and had not resumed. Lovino was peering to see what the commotion had been, satisfied that everyone was well, he returned to his work.

Once Lovino had gone, "Lady María" leaned back on his chair and sighed heavily. For Lovino he had become a "beautiful woman" and with that thought he spoke when Emma sat beside him on the next chair. He was looking up at the sky for a moment, not yet addressing Emma. She could feel his tension and patted his hand lightly. He looked over at her and after blinking into focus, he spoke, "Lovino is the Belladonna in the garden of my heart. He is so beautiful and precious to me. I think I must have mishandled him, for I am growing surer by the minute that he will be the death of me. He is my Atropa Belladonna, Lady Emma. Oh, I was not careful with my flower."

"You are being melodramatic, what causes this, María?" Emma replied, a little weary.

"I am going to a ball in two weeks. Lovino says I will be killed because of it. He said if I do not rid myself of the idea of going that he will give my secret away himself. He says it is simply helping me do what I am doing, only quicker. Oh, I have taken Belladonna to my mouth. I have it in my blood. Lady Emma, do you see why I call him Belladonna?"

"Then what are you to him?"

"His nightingale. A bird and flower. If the Nightingale were to take the flower to its beak, would it not perish?"

"Are you saying Lovino gave you the kiss of death?"

"I am saying kiss is a symbol of love. Loving Lovino was my undoing, no?"

"See there? A bird perched on the Belladonna. It perches there daily. It is not the Belladonna which will kill the bird, but the mistreatment. Even a rose could kill a nightingale if the bird mistreats it."

Lady María was silent, walking home with Mazatl. Mazatl turned to see a bird being carried away inside a cage. She watched as the carrier disappeared into a house and took the bird from her sight.


	6. VI: Flightless Nightingale

17th June, 1546

Lovino and Antonio did not speak after the incident in the attic. When they happened to be in the same place, they kept as far from each other as possible. Lovino was so hurt he would not even meet Antonio's eyes. He craved the green shimmer of those bright eyes but he did not indulge. He wanted to be held in those arms but he did not go near the other. He yearned for the soft whispers of words of love, still he did not direct a single word to gain them. Each was too proud to admit they missed the other. Though their hearts ached, they said nothing nor acted to mend the tears in their heartstrings.

Lovino made as if Antonio did not exist and had never, asking all to cease asking and telling him either about Antonio or Lady María del Carmen. Feliciano and Mazatl would often confide in each other what they witnessed in the torn lovers. Lovino shut away both himself and his feelings, while Antonio kept himself together in public but broke up when in solitude. He played Lovino's melody, singing the lyrics to himself. He wrote the other words of love and yearning, keeping the letters hidden away in a box.

Antonio had attempted once to speak to Lovino, but Lovino had one thing to say. It was a singular question, short, simple and heartbreaking.

"Have you decided not to go to the ball?" He had asked, not even looking at the other.

Antonio could not answer the inquiry, for he knew the consequences. Lovino would shut him away again. He preferred to leave in silence, crushing Lovino with the lack of an answer. It crushed him as well, to know Lovino would have nothing to do with him if he was inclined on the dance.

The time they had scheduled for each other became Lovino's daily visits to the church. He went to the altar and prayed every day for two hours. He confided in the priest, whose response was that God knew what he was doing. Lovino had to trust in his faith and let the heavens work it out. Lovino held to his faith, just as he had for those two years when Antonio had been gone. He prayed as much as he could, begging and pleading to have things work out so hearts were healed in the end.

He made his way home each time, smelling of incense and candle smoke, with his rosary clutched to his hand and tears welling in his eyes. He went straight to bed, reading the Bible and asking not to be interrupted. He refuged himself within the pages of the book, reading of misfortune and pain greater than his own being solved by faith. He could only hope that fate had an ending for him that would give him strength. He did not know just how much he could handle before he broke. He felt his breaking point was close and he would give in. He would run back to Antonio and love him all over again. He would forgive the other's lapse in judgment just as he had forgiven two years of being away. He had sworn himself to those words, if Antonio desisted in his wish to go, Lovino would take him in his arms as if nothing had ever come between them.

Antonio did not understand why Lovino was so adamant in his refusal to have anything to do with him. If Antonio could only understand, he would be able to reconcile with his beloved, but to him Lovino had overreacted to his announcement of wanting to attend a ball. It was not pride, he continued to tell himself. He simply wished to attend a ball and if Lady María del Carmen had not been invited but he had an invitation anyway, what was the matter in attending? Lovino was so apprehensive of the matter that he became nervous. Surely it was just the tension transferring to him as a result of being so invested in Lovino and his opinion. He simply wished to establish Lady María del Carmen as a better alias and could not find a better way than presenting her in private, formal setting. Lovino had been suspicious of the matter but he had not. So he decided himself, Lovino could do well for himself in not attending if the situation sat ill with him, but Antonio welcomed the experience and would attend with an open mind.

So they spent the time, Antonio in his melancholy and Lovino is fearful, angry faith. Those around them were sensitive to the topic and were careful not bring the matter to the surface. Lady María was seen with Mazatl in the town, not again with Lovino. The people of the town began to speak, but Lady María and Lovino were either turning a deaf ear to the gossip or they truly were oblivious. Word spread just as quickly as the rift between the pair grew wider. The pair were careful to avoid one another, a fact that did not go unnoticed. Feliciano and Mazatl were careful to keep their sides apart. They remained friends, though their friendship became strained since the two older people had drifted apart.

* * *

Romulus sat Lovino down though the boy was reluctant. It was going to make his grandson ill to bottle up his emotions. So, with the good intentions that parental figures have, he made his grandson speak.

"Lovino, answer me this. Do you no longer love Antonio?" Romulus asked kindly.

Lovino turned away before looking down with a heavy sigh, "I said goodbye, Grandfather. I said the words one does not to the ones they love."

"Ah, but did your mouth and your heart agree?"

Lovino folded his arms across his chest and scowled. His tight jaw twitched as he turned away. Moments later his folded arms were on the table and his head was buried in it. "I do not know. I want Antonio to be safe, I wish him to be well. How can I protect him from himself? He is too trusting. I am so hopeless against himself. I pray for him, I do, but what can my prayers do for him? I am trying, I promise. Am I not trying hard enough?"

"Do you feel better now?"

"Only slightly. I am still so frightened of what may happen to him. He is a fool and I have told him so!"

Feliciano placed the painting of Antonio and Lovino in Lady Bosch's garden on the nail where it had hung before, Lovino quickly snatching it down and taking it to the attic. He rested it beside the chest, not wishing to have any more heartache in sight. The day of the ball drew nearer and slimmer grew the chances of Antonio changing his mind.

* * *

.

* * *

.

* * *

.

* * *

"May I have this dance?" Lord Charles of Oxford extended his hand to Lady María del Carmen. She smiled and placed a gloved hand atop his, allowing herself to be led to the dance floor.

The piano echoed beautifully throughout the hall as the pair danced. The Lord was a good dancer and Lady María was a quick study of moves she did not know. The two were dancing when the Lady noticed that there were whispers among the crowd.

"Oh, do not pay them attention, sweet Lady. They are simply engrossed in gossip. It is distasteful, really." He smiled down at her.

"Whatever about? What is the topic, do you know?" She asked, a little nervous.

"Ah, if it pleases you to know then, it is about you. They wonder why you did not bring your fiancé. See, it is strange for a lady to come alone to a ball." He replied, never missing a dance step as he did so.

Lady María del Carmen took a shaky breath as she looked around the room. There were no women by themselves. They all were accompanied by a man. Fiancé, brother, father or husband whatever the men were, the women were with them.

Lord Charles soothed her, "Ah, but if you had not come alone what of us unaccompanied gentlemen? We are blessed for your arrival in solitude."

Lady María tried to smile, but it was not coming across as she would have liked. Her neck prickled and her heartbeat became quicker. She feared that there was something she had missed, why all eyes were on her as she danced. Some shot her glares and others just brimmed with disapproval. She began feeling ill and excused herself, taking a chair and opening her fan to put it to use.

"Oh, Lady María. How could you sit now? The music is gay and the ambiance of the ball has just matched it. Are you certain you cannot dance?" Lord Charles asked, sitting beside her.

"I am afraid I cannot join in the gaiety, I feel ill." She admitted, fanning herself more shakily now.

Another woman, Baroness Lowell, sat beside her and whispered, "I shall ask the English Lord to go then I wish a word with you."

"Very well." Lady María nodded, watching as the Baroness took the Lord over to her husband, who seemed to get the hint and began speaking enthusiastically to the Lord.

"Pardon me if this seems intrusive, are you with child perhaps?" The Baroness murmured.

Lady María was stunned into silence for a moment before responding, "I could not be. It is impossible."

"Forgive me, I just thought you looked suddenly sick. It happens when expecting, and as rumors go about you, you are very _affectionate_ to a young man who works for Lady Bosch. I must say, it seemed you were sick from pregnancy to me."

"Oh, oh no. I am not expecting. I may be close to Lovino but I am not that kind."

"Why is he not here?"

Lady María swallowed hard. This question she had hoped to avoid from anyone. "We have called off our engagement. He did not wish me to come and I am here despite him."

The Baroness looked affronted, "A Lady engaged to the peasant boy who works the earth? How do you not value yourself better? I must say, though you tell me no, you are undeniably with child. I can think of no other reason you would wish to marry him. You are carrying his child from an affection gone too far but now what shall you do with the engagement called off?"

"I am not with child. I simply fell in love with the peasant boy who saved my life. Were it not for him I would have fallen to the same fate as my parents. Captured and killed by raiders. It was his kindness and that of his family that kept me alive. I think I must have fallen in love with him when he told me I had no more cause to shed tears."

"Touching tale, Lady María. So, tell me, what will become of you now that you are likely to be a spinster?"

"A spinster? Is that not a woman who never marries, lives and dies alone?"

"Certainly. For no man would wish a woman engaged before, especially one whom rumors do not paint kindly."

"Ah, what a sad life I am to live."

"Women should never disobey the word of the men in their lives. No means no and do not means just that. You disobey, no one will want you as a wife. Who wishes to fight every day?" With that, the Baroness left. Lady María looked sadly at the dress she wore, getting up again and immediately being asked to dance by an Earl of someplace she did not catch.

* * *

Mazatl and Feliciano were playing outside, much to Lovino's chagrin. He could hear them from the window in his and Feliciano's room. The third bed had been moved to the empty room which Mazatl and "Lady María" had occupied for some time, since the room had only one bed before their arrival. The chest, however, had been taken up to the attic. Lovino still had the key hanging above his bed. He did not wish to touch it for fear he would become semtimental. Still, he looked at it and sighed, rolling over so he would be face down in bed. He buried himself in the pillow and let himself cry. Of course he had not meant what he had said about revealing Antonio's secret but he had tried to make his beloved understand the danger he was placing himself in. The other had never asked for his chest back, so Lovino felt it insignificant but with the threat of losing the Spaniard crushing him, he took the key from the wall and went to the attic.

* * *

.

* * *

"I dislike women with gaudy make up, you know. Was your dear peasant boy the same? For I recall you wore much more when I saw you last." The Earl hummed.

Lady María was quiet, she did not remember having met this Earl before but she had no reason to deny him conversation. "He had nothing to do with my cosmetics. I just felt my skin was pretty enough. It is improper to be without any so I have rogue and lipstick but not much else."

The Earl seemed to disapprove. "You change your manner without your fiancé knowing of it? Could that not be why he has called off your marriage?"

Lady María cursed the gossip internally and looked away, excusing herself to the balcony. Why people were so prying she had no idea. Still, the earliest one could leave from a ball was two hours after arriving. It was simply etiquette to stay at least the length of the dinner and a few dances. If she refused the dinner she would scorn the cooks, which she had no intention of doing. If she refused to dance, she would look like a bitter, prissy woman. From the looks of things, she was already ill received. If she were to make herself any more unlikable, she would ruin herself. Her status was fragile and created, were she to cause ruin to the name Lady María del Carmen, her true identity would have nowhere to hide.

* * *

.

* * *

Lovino left the key at the base of the chest and ran downstairs, suddenly remembering something. He threw open the door and called for Mazatl and Feliciano, who came to him a little frightened. Lovino composed himself before asking them what he wished to know.

"Did Lady Erzsébet and Lord Roderich receive an invitation to this ball?" He asked, his voice a little frantic.

Feliciano paused, his mouth open. "No, Lord Roderich would have mentioned such a thing. Lady Erzsébet is not the kind to talk about dances. If they had an invitation, I would have heard so."

"Mazatl, did Millicent or Lady Bosch mention an invitation to this ball? I cannot recall if they did."

"You cannot recall because there was no mention. Does something bother you about this ball?" Mazatl replied, looking serious.

"Yes, it very much bothers me. Who would invite a deceased Viscount from across the sea but not the Lords and Ladies of the very town in which the ball will be held? Does that not seem a slight to these nobles?" Lovino asked.

"As Lord Roderich would say, it is a breach of etiquette! If you wish to hold an open event you must invite the nobility of lower rank as well, or if you do not wish this make the event private. It was not private, was it Lovi?"

"No. It was an open invite. This makes me nervous."

Romulus put his hand on Lovino. "It is late. Come to supper. Mazatl, you as well. It seems your Lady will be busy for the night. Once the sun sets it would be improper to have you walk home alone in the dark. Stay in the room Mazatl, the same you occupied with Lady María early after your arrival."

They ate supper and Romulus sent them to bed. He did not wish for them to see what he had been given in the town square. He held the paper, folded as it was and tried not to rustle it too much as he unfolded the object, not wanting to attract attention to himself. His eyes widened as he read, and he closed them to let out a sigh from the deepest reaches of his chest.

* * *

Lady María was whisked back from the balcony to the dance floor. All the doors and windows were closed roughly and at that moment, with the loud thuds echoing in the ballroom, the Lady's heart rate elevated. No normal ball would shut the doors once it was appropriate for them to leave. The Lady looked around, no one else seemed as obviously nervous as she. In fact, she noticed eyes were trained on her as she looked around.

"It is my custom to read the names of the attendants to thank them for their presence. Alas, as I was looking through the invitations I found a very curious discrepancy." The Earl from before called out, standing atop a table. Lady María tried to steady her breath as she backed away to search for an exit. "See, here I have the invitation for the Viscount of New Spain, Viscount Fernández Carriedo. I find that very curious. I also am lacking an invitation for a Lady María del Carmen of New Spain. Surely, her Ladyship remembered her invite did she not?"

"She gave me one, I am certain." A serving boy called back as he served wine from a silver dish.

Lady María tried not to look nervous as she felt the eyes of everyone in the room burning through her. "Have you misplaced my invitation? How utterly rude. I may be new to Italy but that is certainly a slight to my person!"

"Let us assume we have misplaced your invitation, sweet Lady. Someone here has used the invitation sent to Viscount Fernández Carriedo. How could anyone have gotten a hold of it? The Viscount and his family are all _dead!_ Someone in this room has access to the belongings of a dead Viscount. See, what really astounds me is that of all the people here... our Lady María is the only one from New Spain. Surely no one could dispute your nobility, for of all of us here none has any knowledge of the Viceroy's orders."

"How did you know there was a Viceroy?" Lady María called out, catching him.

"Oh, foolish me. See, I am only good at sea." The Earl laughed. "Lying, I am not good at."

Lady María paused, clasping her hand over her mouth.

"You look good as a woman, _Antonio. _See, out at sea you once told us you wished to reclaim your title. Out of all the people in this room, you would be the only one who could enter the Viscount's home. So, Lady María turning up without an invitation to a ball which only the Viscount had been invited? You made it far too easy. Your game ends now. Seize him! Oh... pardon me, I mean _her,_ do I not?" The false Earl laughed, watching as Antonio was shoved to the floor and his arms were tied behind his back. He stepped on the boy's back and spat on him.

"Once a pirate always a pirate, had you forgotten? You may have escaped us but we will not kill you. No, the state wishes to give us money for your head. They will kill you and we, we will receive pay."


	7. VII: 4th July 1546

4th July 1546

**Citizens of Bracciano, rejoice.**

**The efforts of your country have not been for naught. With the help of a confidant to the criminal in question, Italy has apprehended the young man who posed as the deceased Viscount heir of the Spanish Fernández Carriedo family. This false noble also pretended himself a woman by the name of Lady María del Carmen of New Spain. His crimes call for the death penalty. Those who wish to witness may gather at the town square. A makeshift gallows has been arranged for this occasion. It is with great honor that Bracciano shall put an end to this criminal.**

Romulus had forgotten Feliciano's habit of waking for a glass of water in the night. The note was crumpled on the table, Romulus having left it when he turned in for the night. Feliciano set his candle down on the table top and caught sight of the wad, taking it in his pocket. He could use the paper to practice his painting, or his composing, the next morning. After all, it was discarded from the look of it. He would take it to the Edelsteins' home the next day, where he practiced both arts. He returned to bed, his glass of water finished and put away. He covered himself with the blanket, curling up and drifting in to a deep slumber.

* * *

.

* * *

"_How could you have known?_" Antonio yelled, drenched in water and with make up smeared down his face.

"You were careless! The carriage still had the Fernández crest when you took it from the home and brought it here to Italy. Lady María may have emerged from it but that carriage was clearly property of the Viscount. See, if you had been a little less impatient to return to your peasant boy you might have remembered to remove the crest. It was only a matter of time before you made another error, but if you know anything at all about me is that I am not a patient man. I bought nobility with pilfered money, you could have bought a new title yourself but you were too proud to give up the charade. The orphan son of the Viscount is _dead! _Captain Glass Eye ordered him killed if he escaped. He tried to run and was never seen again." The Earl, formerly Giorgio, a crewmate from the pirate ship Antonio had unknowingly volunteered for. "A fine warning that boy became for the other captives who wanted to run. Even if you _are _the real Antonio Fernández Carriedo, the world thinks you are undeniably dead."

Antonio's eyes were cast downward, internal berating himself for having discarded Lovino's ill feeling. He spoke no more, letting himself be brusquely thrown into a cell to await execution the following day. He remembered the scolding, cold words Lovino had last spoken to him. He had not been able to answer. It was his pride that won out in the end, Lovino knew it. Antonio yearned for the angry, scolding voice. Even that was better than dying without a goodbye. He wished for the hazel eyes to burn through him in unconcealed fury. He wished for anything at all. His last night alive he would spend it on a cold, stone floor. He had pictured his last moments alive so differently. Never had it crossed his mind that he would be executed, not even when he was partaking in piracy. He had always believed he would reclaim his title and live the life of an heir. His castles in the sky were crumbling above him.

* * *

_His fortune had never been greater than in that moment in the town square. A few men were talking of a ship needing crew, he had asked if they would take on a boy. Quiet, the men had studied him before answering that if he was willing to work his passage, for they took no payment, they would take him. He had willingly agreed to become part of their crew. He ran through stalls of the shoreside market place. On his way to the dock, he could hardly contain himself. There was a boat in need of crew, its destination New Spain. He would not tell where he had gotten the training but he would be of use to the crew. His eyes lit up as he got closer, the smell of the sea inviting him. He would be returning to María, the serving girl. She would be of great help to him as he claimed his rightful title. He could smell the wet earth underneath his leather shoes already, he could smell the burning wood and hear the crackling of the flames as María prodded the fire to keep the house warm during the rain. His thoughts were this as he ran to the shore, eager to board to his home in New Spain._

_The previous night, after having spent some time speaking to the men about where he would meet them to board, he had run, full of excitement to his temporary home with the Vargas family. He had taken supper rather quickly and had excused himself to bed earlier than usual. His veins were coursing full of adrenaline and homesickness. He prepared the note while the family was spending time together before bed. By the time the rest were to retire to bed, he was asleep._

_He had woken, if he had to guess, a little after three in the morning. Then he had made the bed and left the note atop it. He left the key he carried around his neck gently around Lovino's sleeping head, kissing the boy's forehead. He turned to Feliciano's bed and kissed the younger's forehead as well, taking his garments from the dresser where he had left them for easy access and donning them. In only his stockinged feet, with his shoes in his hands, he had made his way to Romulus' room and knelt on the floor in reverence, kissing the wood gratefully. _

_He had made his way to the door and opened it slowly so it would not creak, closing it lightly to not wake anyone. Only when he was at the last step of the veranda had he put on his shoes. From that moment he was careful when opening the gate, shutting it and kissing it. After the gate was shut, he ran. He did not wish to miss the ship. _

_He ran until the Vargas house was out of sight. At that moment, he stopped and walked toward the shore. There was no one about in the streets as he made his way to the ship. He had stopped for breakfast at an inn, paying with some of the wages he had earned from Emma. The rest he had left underneath the bed for the Vargas family to find and keep. The innkeeper said nothing of his age nor asked of his parents. To him it was not unusual for hungry children of merchants and vendors to come alone to the inn. Their parents were always at the marketplace, setting-up their stalls. Though he did not recognize the boy, he figured the matter to be the same. Antonio saw other youngsters walk in alone with payment and hunger. He did not mind them and ate in peace, leaving a few coins behind as he left. _

_He gave himself a chance to settle the food, by this time dawn had broken and many stalls were partially ready for business. Others were fully ready, eagerly awaiting the buyers. Antonio ran between ready and not-ready stalls toward the shore. He waved to any who smiled at him, running all the while toward shore. Some eyed him warily when they guessed his destination. Some looked at him sadly. They knew the ship and had guards posted at the market because of it. The ship was no honorable vessel, but they could not know if the child was son of one of its crewmembers or just a deceived child. They said nothing as he made his way to the dock, slowing down to not slip on the slick, wet boards of the object._

_He breathed in the sea and remembered it had been the same excitment in his blood when his father had mentioned they were returning to Spain. His first voyage, the one to New Spain, he had been reluctant, nervous, homesick and angry. He had not wanted to go on a ship, to sea for three months. He did not wish to go. During Viscount Fernández Carriedo's announcement that they would return to Spain, Antonio had hardly slept. He had run to the ship, settled himself in their cabin and awaited the lurches forward to signal they were moving._

_He felt the same excitment then, as he stood before the vessel headed to New Spain. A man came down from it and helped him up. He shared sleeping quarters with another three crewmen but he did not mind. With adrenaline in his veins, he had started conversation. He had been to New Spain, he told them. He knew the streets and people fairly well. The crewmen seemed attentive, he told them of the nobility and of the peasants. They looked at one another with what Antonio now recognized as a scheming glance. He had been so helpful to them, unbeknownst to him._

* * *

_**.**_

* * *

_**To Lovino,**_

_**Worry not about me, I have found a passage to New Spain. I shall reclaim my title as heir to the Viscount and return to you. I owe your family a great debt and shall repay it once I am restored my rightful place. I have left most of my wages for you, you will find them 'neath the bed. The key I have left around your neck is to open the chest I have left behind here, safeguard it for me, please. Tell Feliciano not to shed a tear for me, for I shall return to you all far better than I have gone. Thank your grandfather many times over on my behalf. I have a gratitude to him beyond the breadth of the sea. If Lady Bosch or Lord Nielsen, or Lord and Lady Edelstein ask for me, tell them what I have writ here is my truth.**_

_**Sincerely**__,_

_**Antonio Fernández Carriedo. **_

_Lovino had read the note many times before, but he had yet to tell the others of its existence. He could not find it in himself to share what little he had left of the Spaniard, the one who eased his temper and listened to his dreams in more depth than anyone else ever had. So, he held the paper to his chest and treasured it. He had kept in his pocket for two weeks now. Every morning he knelt and prayed for Antonio to have a safe voyage and every night he prayed for Antonio to return to him quickly. He was worn from this practice and this secret so he asked to go to confession. After all, he was an altar boy. If he were sinful, he would taint the church._

_So came about their visit to the confessional. Lovino had confessed he was keeping the note to himself. For concealment, he was given prayers as penitence. He thanked the Father and had left for Feliciano to confess. Feliciano had said he suspected his brother hurt, and he was hurting too over Antonio. The boy had been curious to take the key and open the chest, curious but not bold. He said she must have been afflicted by envy. The Father gave him prayers as well, though he felt the matter trivial if the child had not acted upon it._

_After Lovino had finished with his prayers he disclosed of the note. Romulus nodded in understanding, Feliciano had looked at his painting sadly and Lovino had walked out to show the note to Lady Bosch and Lord Nielsen. The siblings had looked at each other and shaken their heads. They were gentle with the note and returned it to Lovino carefully. It was already becoming worn and the ink smudged._

_Lovino became frustrated with not knowing what had become of Antonio. He was tired of having only the note to hold and keep. His heart ached to not be able to respond, so he took ink to paper. He began, not knowing what he was about to say. He simply needed to put words to paper, to have something to give Antonio to carry. Though he knew it foolish, for he could not give the other anything now, he wished to write something for him. _

_**O, Nightingale without you my days are endless,**_

_**Sunset and sunrise come and go without your song,**_

_**When will your wings**_

_**Again catch these winds?**_

_**When will you return to me?**_

_**Here my hand awaits to be your nest,**_

_**My nightingale, you have stolen**_

_**From my chest**_

_**All sound and joy.**_

_**Return to me,**_

_**Sweet songbird**_

_**For without your tune,**_

_**My own beat withers,**_

_**My Life without you**_

_**Will never be life at all.**_

_Lovino folded up the paper, his feelings in ink frightened him. He knelt and prayed once more. His rosary adorned his hands until he could nearly be called a monk. He prayed every moment he could. He looked at the moon and stars at night and wondered if they were the same Antonio could see wherever he was. He was so frightened of missing Antonio. He wished for some way to wash Antonio out of his skin, to cleanse the memories he held so he never thought of the other again. He would take any path other than this, for through this path he was aching and waiting. He was yearning for someone he had hardly known, wanting them back._

* * *

_._

* * *

_._

* * *

_Antonio looked confused when the ship approached land. They could not be in New Spain yet. He was the only one who seemed to react this way, so he looked around and tried to make sense of what happened around him. The men were readying themselves to reach shore, and Antonio could not help but think they had miscalculated. They, however, were right on their predetermined course. One of the cabin mates gave Antonio a pistol and a ribbon to tie his hair back._

_"Tonight we take this town. Take this pistol and tonight you will have a torch. Torch the houses once we have left them. Take no prisoners, leave them in their homes. Their pride is always so 'I rather would die with my family than live on your ship' , give them that." The man named Giorgio sneered._

_Antonio's eyes grew wider and he let the pistol fall to the ground. "No, no. You are pirates? I wish to have nothing to do with you. I am the son of a Viscount, I am on my way home! I am Viscount heir of New Spain!"_

_"Oh, shed your delusions from here on. You're pirate same as the rest of us. You joined willingly no? So give up on anything you thought yourself before you stepped foot on this ship. If you don't torch the houses, well, the torch shall turn on you. Do you understand, _Viscount?"_ Giorgio spat, laughing all the while. _

_He had burned the houses down, but he had always prayed before doing so and allowed the inhabitants to leave. He begged their forgiveness, looking ill as the black smoke filled the town. Some families were angry and they swore they would have him killed. Some felt the sincerity in his begging and thanked him for giving them chance to live. The people hid from the pirates if they were so lucky to have Antonio be the one to torch their houses. The fury that ran through some and boiled in their veins was calmed by the gratitude they felt when they heard screaming and gunshots. The boy was torching their houses, true, but his hand had never once touched the pistol at his waist._

His eyes opened at the memory of burning houses. He looked up at the barred window, through which the sunlight shone. It was Sunday morning, the church bells would ring soon and Mass would start, filled with all the faithful. He should be there too, praying as he had as long as he could remember. His parents had him pray in Latin as well as Spanish. If Latin was the language of the church, he did well to know it. So he did, praying more in Latin when he was a child. In New Spain they prayed in Spanish, for it would be too difficult to have the natives join them in Latin. One new language would be struggle enough. He remembered the first time he prayed with Mazatl, at the altar his mother had made in a corner of the house. She had tried to keep up with him but he had been praying in Latin.

He thought of Lovino, who knew every prayer in Latin and Italian. They prayed together when they had shared a room. Feliciano was a choir boy, just as Antonio had once been. It was with Feliciano that he sang the hymns and with Lovino that he prayed, both in Latin. His thoughts turned to Romulus, who in his prime had taught Latin. The man was so kind to him, he had treated him no different than he treated his own blood. From there he thought of Emma Lars, Erzsébet and Roderich. They had told him to keep to himself, had warned him that Lady María del Carmen should appear distant and reserved. Her character should be of a young woman who kept only private company. He had disregarded this as well.

Shaking his head as if to cast the thoughts into a corner of his mind, he began thinking of Lovino. Tender moments with Lovino. He closed his eyes to see nothing but the memory.

_"Mister Romulus Vargas, I have come with a very serious request." Lady María del Carmen spoke. _

_"Whatever it is, I hope I shall be able to fulfill it." The eldest of the Italians smiled._

_"I know this shall be odd, but as my parents have both passed, it can only be so. I have come for Lovino's hand in marriage."_

_"Odd, certainly. You wish to marry him? I have no objection to the request. My Lovino is yours as you wish."_

_"I thank you."_

_Lovino had been struck dumb, having overheard everything from behind his grandfather. He looked incredulously at Lady María and tried not to stammer. What words did he have for an event like this? He simply took the hand extended to him and kissed it, pulled into an embrace seconds later. Romulus retired to the kitchen and let them go for a walk. _

_"You want to marry me?" He had asked, still stunned._

_"A marriage between a Lady and a peasant boy is not unheard of. Shall we to the lake, then? I have never been happier. What say you, Lovi?"_

_Lovino took Lady María by the arm and sighed. They walked in silence until they reached the lake. There, Lady María broke the silence._

_"Lovino, I took so long to return to you. Do you not think marriage is good for us? When you marry, you become one with the one you love. Out of all people, an altar boy would know, right?" Lady María ran her had over the other's arm._

_Lovino lowered his voice, "When have you ever heard of two men married? This Lady María is temporary, right? What then?"_

_"I can see no reason why__ー__"_

_"You are as attuned to the Church as I. What do you think now?"_

_Lady María sighed, "I have sinned in far greater ways than this, Lovino. Is that your reluctance?"_

_"In part, yes; in part, no. It is far more complex than this."_

_"For now, hold me. Let me kiss you."_

_"I do not deny you embraces, nor kisses. Take them freely."_

_"No matter what becomes of me, will you never deny me?"_

_"Not ever."_


	8. VIII: Tomato on the Vine

The sweet scent of incense seeped into his clothes. He was calm as he carried the tall, gold cross down the center aisle. Feliciano waved at him from amongst the choir, settling in after drinking some diluted wine to keep his throat from drying. Lovino smiled for a moment before again becoming serious as he carried the cross. It was the last Mass of the morning, the evening Masses would not begin until after five. He placed the cross in its rightful place and stood, waiting for the second altar-boy to arrive behind the priest. The incense the other carried smelled sweetish, and Lovino took in the smoke, knowing it would be his turn to carry the container of it during the evening Masses.

Feliciano made a nonverbal hiss to get his older brother to look at him. Lovino tried not to acknowledge the sound but Feli repeated it, louder. The older turned to the younger and walked toward him, Feliciano giving him a folded paper. Lovino tucked it into his cassock, not wanting it to distract anyone from Mass. He took his place as the priest began. The paper crinkled a little as it settled into its hiding place.

Mass went along without Feliciano making more fuss of the paper. He had told his brother to read it once they were unoccupied with Mass. Lovino had agreed, still reluctant to do anything with it. It would be just like his brother to give him a paper which had no use, or a composition of piano music which he could not read. Feliciano had looked more urgent than either of the two options but he could think of nothing that deserved such urgency and knew his brother to exaggerate matters. He felt he could simply discard the paper and if asked could pretend that he had misplaced it, or dropped it while doing his dutiful altar-boy responsibilities.

The morning Masses were over and Lovino was making his way home when he noticed crowds gathering and walking together. He tried not to mind them, walking out of their path. The paper Feliciano had given him earlier that day was tucked away and he reached for it when he found his path blocked off by a crowd.

"I might as well humor him if I cannot move from here." Lovino hummed, taking the creased and obviously salvaged page from its hiding place so he could see it. "Citizens of Bracciano..."He continued to read with eyes wide and frightened. Instead of home, he turned to look at the church. The masses were gathering to witness the execution of Lovino's one love.

Antonio looked out at the crowd and hoped he could see Lovino's face one more time. He was so afraid of the clock striking one. If the church bell rang once before he had seen Lovino's face again, he felt he would die before the platform was dropped beneath him. He searched and found no trace of the boy, his chest feeling as if it has contracted into itself. His breath and heartbeat felt clenched by a vice. He looked at the bell and pleaded it ring soon, turning to the executioner to say a few words.

He ran home, shoving crowds aside and pleading with God to make it to the town square in time. He ran to the attic, taking the key from the floor, shoving the key into the keyhole with such force he might have broken the object and opening the chest,throwing the lid open with such force he felt it would break the hinges. He dug in the chest for anything that might show evidence that Antonio was the son of the deceased Viscount. He was shaking and desperate when he came across a painting of the family, wrapped in a linen cloth. He pulled it out alongside some letters he had not yet read. His feet missed the last step which led to the attic and he slid, getting up and disregarding the scratches he had acquired from the fall. He ran to the town square, praying the whole way to make it on time. He shoved through crowds again, trying to get through to the gallows platform before the church bell struck one. He felt a tightness in his chest as he felt crowds pushing and shoving to get a closer view. He felt his stomach drop to the bottom of his being, taking his heart alongside it as the crowd engulfed him and he could no longer tell how close he was to the gallows. It was not without much shoving and yelling, certain he was bruised and bleeding from all his body, that he finally was able to see Antonio.

"This unknown young man has been found guilty on accounts of piracy, impersonation and false identity. His penalty is death." The executioner called out, silencing the crowd.

Lovino felt sick at the word, clutching tighter to the proof he held in his hands as he made his way forward. He threw himself at the platform, only making it halfway up. His prized evidence had scattered on the wooden floor of the same, Lovino coughing and retching. The crowd stepped away and let him be sick, the boy composing himself and screaming.

"He is no impostor, I bring you proof!" Lovino yelled, looking up at Antonio. Antonio turned away, not wishing to look at the face he had craved only minutes before. He could not bear to tell the truth, he had lost faith merely moments ago and declared himself guilty of all charges, inviting the penalty if it was Heaven's will.

"The altar boy should know better than to come to the aid of a sinner. Away with you, he has confessed the crimes and accepts his penance." The executioner informed Lovino.

Lovino looked at Antonio and shook his head. The Spanish boy would not look at him. He grabbed the painting from the platform and thrust it near the other's face. He tried not to choke as he spoke, "They died fighting! You insult their memory by confessing to crimes you are innocent of. You insult me but most of all you insult fate itself. That is your face painted here, with your mother, with your father. Those letters on the floor, are they not proof of your lineage? They were in your chest, the one you brought to my home more than two years ago. You are the heir to the Viscount, you have done no wrong. Your perjury will end your life."

Antonio swallowed hard, "I... I stole the chest. I am no son of a Viscount. I am a cabin boy for a crew of pirates. I deserve what punishー"

The clock was nearly showing one, the bell would sound soon. The throng grew impatient and some of them rushed the platform, pulling Lovino off brusquely. Antonio watched the younger as his eyes grew wide, losing his footing and being pulled backward off the platform. The young Spaniard had his hands tied behind his back, so he could not even extend a hand as Lovino reached for one. He looked lost, rushing to the platform edge in an attempt to do something for his beloved.

"Lovino!" Antonio yelled, feeling his heart rate elevated and his breaths sharp and uneven.

Lady Erzsébet nudged her husband, who nodded before yelling, "We are in times of war and in risk of raids, quickly then with the execution! An unidentified ship, which flies no country banner, has come to shore nearby. All gathered in the square we are vulnerable to attack. Should the army of the north come for our town we cannot resist all in one square!"

The crowd became frenzied and they surrounded the gallows, making the jailer and the executioner anxious. Some people clamored for the hanging to go on, others climbed the platform to perform the task themselves. They took Antonio from his kneeling, as he was still trying to find the fallen Lovino, and put the noose around his neck. They grabbed him roughly and forced him to stand, pushing him forward until he was atop the trapdoor. He closed his eyes as the bell struck, feeling the wood beneath him disappear. It was for a moment that he felt he was suspended in air, then he sank from the floating feeling.

His head ached and his various cuts and scrapes stung. He recognized the scent of lemon, he had been cleaned up so his cuts did not fester. He closed his eyes again and pulled the sheets over his face. He did not want to see the world now. He breathed, recognizing he was in Feliciano's bed. He sat up and looked around, noticing a lump under the sheets of his own bed. He thought it must be Feliciano, taking the empty bed since Lovino was currently occupying his own. He wanted to go eat but he felt sick. Antonio had been hung, despite what Lovino had tried. Now the precious painting would have a broken frame and the canvas would be split and ruined. He sighed and rolled over, praying the Act of Contrition. It was not until he was praying that he noticed there was a very familiar voice at his door.

"I apologize, Father Angelo, but Lovino had an accident this afternoon and cannot go to evening Masses. He must rest and recover." The calm, cordial voice Lovino recognized as his grandfather's drifted in.

"I am aware, Romulus. I have come about the other boy. I believe he and your grandson had a friendship, am I mistaken?"

Lovino sat up and clumsily made his way to the door to listen. He was straining to hear when words finally came.

"It would be best if we spoke elsewhere, Father. It seems to me that one of the little ones has woken." Romulus directed, the words followed by footsteps fading away.

Lovino groaned, resigning himself back to his bed. He looked out the window and tried not to think of climbing down the stairs to eavesdrop. If only Feliciano were awake to listen for him, he huffed. He wondered why his younger brother would be asleep at this hour when Mass would be soon. If anything, the boy had probably cried himself to sleep. After all, Antonio was his friend as well. Lovino looked at the lump on his bed and made a sad smile. Feliciano was so good to him, and to everybody, he would have to comfort the boy when he woke. Of course, Feliciano would be first to comfort him, he knew too well.

The older Italian got back in bed, thinking of the little he had seen of the execution. Something pulled at him but he could not dismiss it. There was one faint voice, as if he had heard it just before the pain was too great and he fainted, that unsettled him. He did not know what the voice meant or why it crept into his mind then. He simply knew that a voice felt out of place and wrong to him, for reasons he was too tired and aching to think of.


	9. IX: Leontopodium Alpinum

19th October 1546

* * *

Lovino had not seen his younger brother since the incident of the town square. A few days more than three months had passed since, and it felt as if his shaken faith would crumble any day. He had tried his grandfather for answers, but the man would not listen to any questions about that day. Lord and Lady Edelstein in had taken Feliciano to Vienna with them, with permission from Romulus, on the night of the execution; so, Lovino felt he had no one to ask. Lars had returned to Italy, selling the many furs he had acquired from Scandinavia, and Emma spent the time talking to him about his travels and his injuries. It felt improper to ask Emma about such a thing, especially if he would interrupt her time with the her brother.

The war around them had intensified since the day at the town square, but they lived on as they were told to. The country had seen many wars and the people would be well in the end, such was the consensus among the townspeople. Their earth had once been a land of warriors, they had war in their blood, they would be well. They were attentive to the announcements which called for food for the army or for soldiers to rise and for towns to defend themselves. Lovino somewhat wished he could wander off and see battle, maybe get himself captured for either side. He was so desperate, when he caught himself thinking like this he went to the church and prayed. He knew he was being foolish, most days, but some days he yearned for the ability to rejoin Antonio.

He had not spoken to Mazatl more than he needed to, despite her staying in the Vargas house and working with him in Lady Bosch's garden. She must know what had happened during the execution, even if she was not present. Word must have spread, but he did not ask her. He felt it was cruel, since Antonio was the last of the Fernández Carriedo family she had left. Her masters all deceased, she really had no right or rank without them. She was below a peasant without someone to serve, but no one laid claims on her, to Lovino's knowledge. Though he considered, if only briefly, that maybe his grandfather had claimed her servitude to their house. It was a rather unlikely idea but he could not think of another reason for Mazatl staying with them instead of with Lady Bosch.

He often refuged himself in the attic, or the pillow. Many times he had fallen asleep next to the chest, sighing to himself. He had looked at every object inside, trying to decipher Spanish in order to read some of the letters. He had not given up but he had not asked anyone for help. He had found more things from Antonio's past inside, studying them until they were engraved in his memory. He could, from memory, describe the jewelry and the miscellany that was contained in the chest. The shapes and colors, the textures and scents of all the items were part of him so deeply he could almost say they had become ingrained in his soul.

After a few days of absence, so he could recover from his injuries and have all signs of the same erased, he had returned to his duties as an altar-boy. Many people recognized him as the altar-boy on the platform and whispers erupted from those a little less discreet. Others were more reserved in their opinions and simply gave him looks which he had to decipher himself.

The choir seat usually reserved for Feliciano had remained empty since the last time he had seen his brother, _Ave Maria_ did not sound the same to Lovino without his brother's voice. He would soon be too old to hit the higher notes of the song and Lovino felt he should be using every moment he had left. Still, it was no use to wish because if Feliciano was using his voice to the last moment, he was doing so in Vienna many towns away. It would do Lovino no good to have his brother singing. He smelled the incense and watched as the wisps of the smoke vanished among the chandeliers and the sunlight. He looked at the colored glass which turned the streams of light many hues as they touched the walls and floor of the inside of the church. He rang the bell when he needed to and found himself holding a chalice for the faithful to drink from, not feeling the Mass progress. It was a numbness that came over him as he performed his duties, remembering that it was in Mass that Feliciano had given him the paper. He should have read it before the priest began speaking, instead of disregarding the matter and performing his duties. Feliciano was as well-raised as he. He should have known it was an important matter if his brother had been willing to bother him inside the church.

When the war had been ceased, for no one yet believed it truly over, Lovino had helped rebuild torn homes and take food to the needy. He and his grandfather spent every possible moment repairing their town. Romulus was so proud of the place he was saddened to see it in disarray, especially the buildings where he had many cherished memories. His muscles still served him, as per his own words, and he was seen around the town with a cart of stone and brick. Lovino was only half heartedly interested in the glory days and the tales his grandfather urged him to listen to. He felt the wrenching in his chest and the shallowness of his own breath too strongly to care for much. He felt that the work he was doing in his spare time, alongside his grandfather was less charitable and more disctracting. The days had only dragged him along as if he were a man caught to a horse drawn cart, unwillingly and roughly, injuring him the whole time. The work left him exhausted enough to sleep and aching physically enough to ignore his heart ache. It was a routine made to numb his pain rather than overcome it. He had done nothing to forget Antonio and still found himself, even if he had to nearly crawl, returning to the attic.

* * *

.

* * *

Erzsébet had known of the Edelstein and Fernández Carriedo families' arrangement, their children were to be betrothed at birth on the condition that one family were to have a girl and the other a boy. It was the misfortune of the agreement that both families had a single child, both male. That misfortune had been what brought Erzsébet to marry Roderich. The Hedáváry family, to which Erzsébet was born, was well-established in Hungary but had no foreign connections and never once left the country. Due to the tension and the rumors of impending wars, she was strategically wed to Roderich barely a month after their meeting. It had all been arranged when she had been very young, as the Edelsteins had been worried their name would die with their son if he could not be wed and the Fernández Carriedo family had no more children. The international marriage had secured the Hedáváry properties would be saved from what conflict was bubbling and spilling in Europe. She had been very frightened to leave her family so young and move with her husband, barely two years older than she, when she was merely nine years old. In all her early complaining, she had found Roderich was not of very different stance than her and he had explained his wedding arrangements before her. She had never asked, for it seemed unimportant, what other arrangement the two families had come to since the betrothal could not be accomplished.

Years later, with the tragedy that had befallen the Fernández Carriedo family, the couple had returned to Vienna. They returned to the very home in which they had been settled after their impromptu wedding, Erzsébet feeling far less small and melancholy now than she had then. At sixteen, she understood more than she had at the age of nine, and she was able to appreciate the house for its beauty rather than fear it for its size. Roderich had been busy since they had arrived and it had been Feliciano and Erzsébet in the home doing housework and keeping up with the lessons. His stunt at the front of the gallows had not left him unscathed but the large scabs, which were what remained of the long scratch he had gotten, simply motivated him to make his arrangements quickly. He was not spiteful, but the injury made his drive more apparent and fierce. She had taken in all of his urgency and made sure to keep out of his way unless he called for her. Watching from the side was well enough for her so long as he was content at the end of the day.

Feliciano had been the first to ask, despite the three of them having had the question in mind since they had departed Bracciano, "Mister Roderich, are you certain this will work? It is so much trouble if it will be for nothing."

Erzsébet had hushed the boy and Roderich had sighed then, he had meant no harm but it was a very true statement. If all their trouble was for nothing, he felt he could not forgive himself. The silence that had fallen was broken by a nervous laugh.

"Ah, Feli, even if in the end I cannot be saved... to see Lovino one more time will settle me."

Roderich disapproved of the reply but said nothing. He simply looked over at Erzsébet a little crestfallen. Feliciano looked up for the source of the voice, the speaker leaning on the banister as if he were tired. It was true, he was restless since the event at the gallows. The memory of the day came briefly but the young Italian shook it away. His conversation with the priest he had not shared with anyone but it rattled in his chest like a caged bird, fighting to be set free. Antonio was looking far older than fifteen with the dark circles under his eyes and the sunken skin from his lack of appetite. He looked away to keep from staring and began to hum, slipping into Ave Maria again. Antonio perked up at the sound and Erzsébet actually joined in to sing. Their eyes were lighting up and smiles ghosted over the corners of their mouths. Feliciano recalled his grandfather saying he could light up a room even in the darkest of hours and began to sing a different, cheerful song. Roderich moved to the piano he had not touched in years and began to play, Antonio scurrying down to ask Erzsébet for a dance. The room was bright and cheerful, a feeling that had been absent for days, and they were so relieved that tears came strolling down cheeks.

In the midst of all the joy and dancing, for Roderich had been replaced at the piano by an enthusiastic Feli, Erzsébet mentioned their wedding. Roderich had stopped cold, quickly apologizing and Antonio had suddenly remembered something. The word wedding had reminded him of a conversation with his father and he hushed Feliciano on the instrument to talk.

"Roderich, on your wedding day my father presented you with a letter. A contract of sorts, really. If you can find the letter, then all of these preparations and your efforts have a firmer foundation. I remember him telling me once that had I been born a girl, I would have been married to you. Since that could not happen, our families came to a new agreement. On your wedding day, my father gave you your gift along with the agreement. Your father was to do the same at my wedding. Find the agreement, please. It will be worth your efforts."

"Antonio, if you thought I did not keep the agreement with me, you do not know me well enough. I know the terms and all I am doing now is having an authentication and a formal, legal recognition of such arranged. Once I have sorted that matter, we will return to Italy with your pardon and your indulgences. Though, personally I would not seek an indulgence I have come to the conclusion it is best to arrange pardons and indulgences for your situation."

Antonio flinched at the word "indulgence", he found it distasteful to have someone arrange indulgences for him. It was a matter he should sort for himself but he did not protest, for he knew that it was his life at stake. The Catholic Church was quite powerful and if a decree of innocence was granted to him, he would have a better chance of being removed from the list of hunted men. He was certainly not about to risk exposing himself in Vienna, a city that had not yet frenzied for his head. He was able to enjoy outdoor walks and stargazing without ducking and scurrying to hide at the sound of footsteps. For the first time in many years, he was feeling free. He had not even felt this when he had been disguised as Lady María del Carmen, despite his outward appearance.

Breathing the scent of Autumn and feeling the warmth of the sun on his face had calmed him a little. When they had first arrived he had been reluctant and defiant. He had been saved from the gallows, why could he not tell Lovino? Why could he not write to the other? He had been very adamant in his pleas to return to Italy. Erzsébet had been the one to speak some sense into him, for he was being dangerous in thought. He had calmed then, and learned to enjoy the time in Vienna. It was superficial enjoyment, for at night he was restless once more.

He wished to run to Lovino's house. He wanted to not cry on the pillow as he feared Lovino was falling in love with someone else believing him dead. He begged into his pillow to have Lovino once more. He wanted to be wrapped up in those arms and he wanted to see the other from head to toes, unable to see anything outside of the younger's body. He felt the bitter taste of not knowing if Lovino had stopped loving him. It was killing him inside and made him feel as if he was burning from the inside it. He was so happy during the day, thinking of how it would be to take Lovino on a walk through the Viennese streets. He was aching and remembering how those fiery hazel eyes made him forget all his troubles when they were together.

* * *

.

* * *

Lovino felt his tears as he lit the candle, he shook his head and got on his knees to pray. His grandfather had told him to stay at home, for he had been in tears when he had returned from Emma and Lars' house. His sentimentality felt foolish even to him, for he had felt a little part of his chest crumble when he watched the last tomato rot on the ground. It had been a very late bloom, the flower making his heart flip when he had seen it. The belladonna was drying and bare, the fallen flowers crunching underneath his boots. He had begun crying over flowers and he felt very much a fool. Something about the tomato dying had hurt him.

He could not bare his soul so all his hiding and praying was his way of trying to ignore the clenching feeling in his chest. He did not know anything about what happened during the execution and he had come to the conclusion that he was not being told for a reason. No one wanted to be the bearer of bad news. He had been trampled and had seen the world go black in his eyes, never to see Antonio as the light went from his eyes. No one was cruel enough to tell him that Antonio was long dead, but he could figure out that much himself. He had woken to Feliciano in his bed, the priest outside his bedroom door, and whispers about _that boy. _If the priest had not wanted him to hear, it was the only thing that made sense.

He was so torn up about it that when his grandfather ordered him to stay home, he could not even enjoy the smell of warm food. Mazatl was cooking and she had greeted him with a small smile. He did not mean to be rude, but he made as if he had never seen her. He simply wished to drown his pain, too great to bear after that tomato. Emma had simply noticed it and ordered him to bury it for it would fertilize the ground. She had not been aware of his pain when she was explaining the way she had noticed dead things fertilized the earth. It was why the cemetery was always fighting the gloom of its purpose with a rebellion of green sprouts.

"Réquiem ætérnam dona eis, Dómine, et lux perpétua lúceat eis. Requiéscant in pace. Amen." Lovino choked out, turning when he heard Mazatl put the wooden spoon down.

"I know that prayer. Little master Antonio used to pray it in his parents' room when he returned. Who has died?" She spoke softly, looking at him sincerely.

"Mazatl, I am praying for _him_. See, no one will tell me but he must be dead." Lovino did not look at her, watching the flame lick the sides of the glass.

"He has died in Vienna?" She asked, a little startled.

"No, Mazatl, not my brother. Antonio. You must have mourned him already so I cannot expect you to mourn him once more."

"I did not wish to interrupt but Antonio went to Vienna. Not by choice, of course. Has no one told you what happened at the gallows?"

"No. Tell me, please! Is he alive? How did he live?"

* * *

.

* * *

Antonio listened to Feliciano praying the Act of Contrition and wondered why he was doing so. He said nothing and began doing so himself. In the middle of doing so, he closed his eyes and remembered praying the same words when he was about to have the platform dropped beneath him. He was finished praying as the memory of the day at the gallows returned to him.

He recognized the yelling voice as none other than Roderich Edelstein. For a brief moment he had looked to see Lady Erzsébet and he together. Then the lady had covered her face with a hooded cloak. He had looked back down to find Lovino but many hands were grabbing and pulling at him he felt the noose around his neck. The hungry crowds had yanked him to stand and the rope had rubbed his neck roughly. He was half-dragged to the trapdoor.

The executioner had been trying to do his job despite the many people atop the platform. The doors had opened and Antonio had felt the wood disappear. Instead of feeling as if he were suspended or choking, the feeling of void at his feet had become arms. Beneath the platform, crouched and cloaked, Erzsébet had held him up. From above, the rope was cut and a signal given. He had been released and fell to the dirt, hushed by the woman. He had then smelled burning and heard yelling. He crawled out to the man waving him over, Roderich in disguise, watching Erzsébet scream in horror. The crowd had parted and turned to see the woman screaming, she serving as distraction for the two men to run. She played her role better than expected, taking Lovino in her arms and yelling that he was her son.

Antonio had followed Roderich through deserted streets and alleyways to the Vargas house. Romulus had been concerned for his grandson, but took the boy inside quickly. The Spaniard had been reluctant to stay, but the elder rushed him to a bath and to bed.

"You have a long travel ahead. Lord Edelstein had told me of the plan. Do you wish to take Mazatl?" He had asked in between orders for him to bathe, eat and sleep.

It had been a difficult question but he had decided not to. He allowed her to stay in the Vargas home, provided she work for them if asked. He had been unable to sleep until Lovino had been brought home. He had already settled into Lovino's bed and watched as the altar-boy was placed in the youngest Italian's bed. He had wanted to wake him but was stopped by the physician. Lovino was in a state in which it was unwise to rouse him. He had laid back in bed and despite his difficulty sleeping in that week, had succumbed to dreaming less than an hour later. He was unaware that Lovino had woken and mistaken him for Feliciano.

He had been woken later, while dawn was barely breaking, and taken to the Edelstein carriage. From there they had departed to Vienna with Feliciano going along so as to not raise suspicion. Their bags were packed with clothes for the four of them and if they were stopped and checked, it would not look strange to have such clothes if Feliciano was with them. Romulus did not mind his grandson so far away because Vienna was a cultural epicenter, and as a proud Italian, he wanted his grandsons to absorb as much of culture as possible.

Antonio had watched the house disappear from the carriage sight and had closed his eyes, regretting that he had not been able to say farewell. The travel had exhausted him before the rest of them. He had fallen asleep in the carriage quickly and when he had woken again, Bracciano was far gone. Lady Erzsébet had been joining Feliciano in a story, the boy practicing his recitation with the tale. Roderich had been the one to notice him fidget, offering comfort in the form of a few kind words.

Recalling their travel and what he had escaped, he sighed heavily. Sitting down to supper with the other three was almost automatic to him. He ate without tasting the food, got up to clean the dishes used and retired to bed. Roderich and Erzsébet said nothing but Feliciano made a little noise in his throat. He wanted to say something but he could not find the correct words. He watched Antonio ascend the stairs and disappear into the room with a long, heavy sigh. After thanking them for the meal, he followed the other into the room.

Roderich waited for the other two to close the door before taking a paper from his desk and waving Erzsébet to his study. The paper was none other than the agreement between the two families, of which he would benefit greatly.

"It seems shallow to do things for personal motives, does it not?" He asked his wife slowly.

As the wife, she had to laugh, everything was done for ulterior motives. She had been married to him so her family could bequeath her their property and have it secured. He had been married to her so he could produce an heir. They moved to Italy to acquire more recognition and property, it was all for motives far more complex than wants or likes. She had not been betrothed at birth like him, but she had a friend who would have suited her family just fine if she had married him. He was a knight, and as the daughter of a knight herself, her family had approved of their friendship. Erzsébet was even disguised as a boy for a long time just so she could be presented as the Hedáváry heir. She was not shy about learning the art of war and would have lived her life as a man if asked, if only to keep property and be independent.

Her laugh made him smile, it was a sound that he had come to love. He began to hand her the letter, kissing her hand as he did. She gave him a sly smile and he hummed. She turned her attention to the paper, which had slightly yellowed and crinkled through the seven years since she and Roderich had married.

_**Cherished friend,**_

_**Many congratulations on your marriage. Below are the terms for the agreement between my family and your own.**_

_**In accordance to a verbal agreement, should either family be unable to produce an heir, half of the property of the opposite family will immediately be ceded upon the inability to produce an heir with the remaining property being ceded at the time of death of the last surviving member of the aforementioned family. Should the family unable to produce an heir be of higher social status, the rank shall also be bequeathed to the opposite.**_

_**The above is a formal understanding between the two parties and can only be dissolved by mutual agreement of the following:**_

_**Antonio Fernández Carriedo, son of Baron Fernández Carriedo and Roderich Edelstein, son of Lord Edelstein.**_

Erzsébet read over the terms and gasped. It was quite an agreement, and she could understand why Roderich was not more hesitant to help Antonio. The only ones who knew of the Fernández Carriedo family's status were the Viceroy of New Spain, the family themselves and the Edelsteins. Though the king and queen of Spain were the highest authority in regards to the newly raised status, with no one to claim it the Fernández Carriedo name would remain in rank of a Baron. Were Antonio to reclaim the family name, he would receive the title of Viscount himself. It was a gamble, certainly, for Roderich was uncertain that Antonio would not dissolve the agreement with a gimmick or cheat. The other had been at the mercy of pirates for years and he had learned their ways, so Roderich hoped his heart was not changed.


	10. X: Winter to Spring 1547

January 1547

He threw himself into the snow, breathing quietly and staring at the grey sky. Five years ago he had been at sea, his skin burning from the hot sun. He remembered how much five years had changed him. From a child who knew had his parents, living in lap of luxury and the carefree manner in which he had been raised. His parents were of the strange kind that did not have a nurse or full-day tutor for him, they had been very close. Losing them had been hard on him but he had been reluctant to become a pirate. He had never killed anyone but he had seen the bloodshed up close. Laying on the snow, the sharp coldness of it jolting him, he thought of these dark memories. Erzsébet and Roderich said nothing as they left him on the snow with his thoughts, resting to feed the horses and to have a meal themselves.

A figure seemed to materialize from the snow itself and Antonio watched as Lord and Lady Edelstein approached the form. Feliciano was in the carriage, presumably fast asleep. The Spaniard said nothing as he was too preoccupied with the haunting thoughts of learning to use a sword and how he had escaped. He had never killed, but maimed, yes. He had definitely injured a man in his desperation to make it ashore. One of his crewmates had been on the wrong end of the sword when Antonio had been hastily slashing at a rope. He had run despite the yelling and death threats, hiding in the undergrowth of an abandoned shack. His mind was replaying his escape up until the point when he met Lovino.

His mind had registered such minute details he had not actively noticed on the day. The lighting across those hazel eyes, the way his eyebrows had moved up slightly in surprise and his lips had barely parted in what he could only assume had been a small gasp. Or maybe he had added those details subconsciously after falling for the younger. He breathed and the sharp intake made him sputter, the air was like a set of needles in his lungs. The trio that had been absorbed in their own matters finally turned to him as he made choking noises. The form which had appeared from the horizon, seemingly by witchcraft, turned out to be a knight. He pulled Antonio up and laughed, the choking young man confused.

"Well, I'll be. Erzsébet, this is the heir to the Viscount? He looks just like the man! A painting in the flesh. Pleasure, Little Master. I am Sir Beilschmidt, Gilbert I should add, for there are three of us." The man laughed, clapping Antonio on the back and clearing the cough right out of him.

"Now Gilbert, do not be so rough on him. Thank him, for otherwise I would be your wife." Erzsébet grinned slyly. The knight's face flickered a moment and Antonio registered what he knew was heartache.

"Thank you, for I would have gone mad with her as my wife." Gilbert hummed, watching as Roderich looked affronted and Erzsébet looked smug. "Now, good I found you lot on the road. There have been many road thieves and nabbers. I will accompany you all the way to Bracciano. Consider it my wedding gift, for as a knight I am trained in these matters and can keep you all fairly unscathed without the need for escape."

"No need for you all the way to Bracciano, is there?" Roderich inquired, the knight flinched. Erzsébet's expression changed and she softly coaxed him into agreeing on the escort all the way. Antonio could see the tension and climbed back on the carriage, surprised to find Feliciano reading from a small book. It was not a bible, which surprised the older the most. He was so engrossed in the tale, he hardly noticed someone sit beside him, which made the shivering boy feel ignored. He said nothing, for he really was in no place to make demands of anyone.

He remembered Lovino instead, making his goal clear to himself, he was going to return to Lovino. He was going to return to those arms which were strengthened by the work he did on the earth. He began to sink in the plush seats of the carriage, thinking of how much he missed Lovino. The hazel eyes that felt like he had stolen Autumn for himself, the smile on lips that felt as soft as a velvet rose, everything that he could remember he missed. He looked back at Feliciano, noticing the boy was fast asleep now. He covered the boy with the blanket he had beside him and took the book from the other's hands. He simply meant to set the book aside until he recognized the handwriting. It was Lovino's. The book was actually a journal.

* * *

.

* * *

.

* * *

The fire crackled and Lovino pushed Mazatl closer to it. The girl waved him aside and told him to not worry over her, but he did not oblige. She sighed and asked him to go into her room and get her a remedy she kept on her table. He finally moved and the girl looked into the fire, remembering how she had spent winters in the Fernández Carriedo home waiting for them to return. She was not accustomed to being the one taken care of, so she felt strange that Lovino was fussing over her.

She had fallen into the lake due to the thin ice. Lovino had gotten her out, thrown his cloak over her, and rushed her back to the house. The fire had already been lit and he had told her to keep still in front of it. She could not help but fidget, for she was supposed to be making a meal. Romulus had told her not to worry and she finally stopped bringing up her chore. She thought about the way they cared more for her health than her chores as she waited for the remedy.

Lovino recognized the scent of peppermint, furrowing his brow when he was assaulted with a stronger smell of spice. Mazatl laughed, figuring it was the red peppers that had finally overpowered him and made him sneeze. The remedy seemed to help for these matters, though it was just a strong herb with a spice which really "burned the sickness out" internally. She had asked for hot water, which Romulus had given her already. With one hand she poured some of the remedy powder into the hot water, holding the hot cup with the other. She drank the odd mixture in a quick gulp and shuddered. She had already changed out of her wet clothes but her hair was still cold. She awkwardly thanked the Vargases for their concern.

After two hours, Lovino returned to sit beside Mazatl. She was lost in thought so he was quiet until she noticed him. He smiled at her and she hummed, pausing a moment before smiling back. She was still deep in her thoughts and part of her was debating whether or not to ask what was on her mind. Biting her lip for a few moments, she decided to speak. It did not seem like a household where she was expected to be subordinate, from her experience.

"Why is it you know how to read?" She asked, hoping it was not too impertinent.

Lovino froze up, suddenly realizing Mazatl could not. "I thought everybody knew. Are you illiterate, Mazatl? Can you not write?"

Mazatl shifted a little before saying, "I can read only my name, and write it. M-a-z-a-t-l. Mazatl. I can recognize those letters but nothing else. I see you with a book and a pen and I wonder how you were taught. Is it not only the rich who learn?"

Romulus intervened when he saw the confusion on his grandson's face, "I was a merchant long ago, Mazatl. My trade included the sale of books. As an apprentice I learned to read and write, for what sort of merchant cannot properly describe his wares? I taught my son though he took to fishing. If you wish, I could teach you."

Lovino raised an eyebrow, "You were a merchant like Lord Nielsen? I always thought you were a fisherman like Papà. What was Mamma?"

"Ah, Maddalena. She was a farmer's daughter. Might explain why you are so talented in the garden." Romulus sighed and turned back to Mazatl. "Mazatl, what were your parents like?"

"My father was a medicine man for the court and my mother the best seamstress. They both taught me their skills so I could work for the court and not become a servant." Mazatl replied, Romulus and Lovino looked uncomfortable for a moment so she added, "Perhaps I should have said slave. Being a servant is not awful. In our kingdom slaves were often sacrifices for the gods. As a servant, am I not more valuable alive?"

Lovino cleared his throat and Mazatl quickly murmured an apology, but the boy cut her off, "You and I have not spoken much, I suppose Feli must already know. How exactly did you become a servant?"

"You are interested in that matter? If you must know, strange people came and our people believed it was the return of a god for he was to come back by sea. We trusted these foreigners, as part of the court we learned a little of the language, it was an exchange. But we were betrayed. Terrible acts were committed but in all the chaos I was able to hide until I found myself with a boy. His eyes like grass and his skin lighter than my own. He was just lost and wanted to return home. He described his home to me and I took him back, but I was going to hide after I took him home. Lo and behold, it was the little master himself. It was never really a choice, it was just survival. I did grow fond of them. It must be strange for a young child to care for an older one, but it happened."

Lovino looked at Mazatl, wondering how a girl who had grown in turmoil and raised as a servant could have become the cheery child who made his brother smile so much. It did not make any sense that Feliciano in the clouds and Mazatl so grounded could be so compatible. He was thinking of their friendship when it struck him that Feliciano and Mazatl were no stranger than Antonio and himself. An assistant to a botanist so smitten by the son of a merchant who never had worked a day in his life. It was also so difficult to reconcile the lavish lifestyle with the forced life of piracy the boy had endured.

"I am no longer cold, I should-" Mazatl began, feeling uneasy after all she had said.

"Do not even think of a chore. You should rest. Falling through ice is a serious matter. Now, the both of you should find some way to occupy your time until bed." Romulus tutted, the two children caught by surprise.

"Yes, Nonno." The boy sighed, extending his hand for Mazatl. The two of them made their way to the attic, where Lovino quickly immersed himself in the items of the chest. Mazatl stayed close by and kept quiet until Lovino held out a comb.

"I suppose this was property of the Viscountess?" Lovino asked, motioning for the girl to take the ornament.

"It was her rose comb, she wore it with a scarlet gown. Her hair was pulled up and curls dangled from the sides. The Viscount gave her it as a gift. She was wearing it last I saw them." Mazatl nodded, looking at the comb.

"Orphans, all of us. None raised by their own parent. Tell me Mazatl, what do you know of the things in this chest?"

"I packed it. I know every item that should be in it. Even in the little compartment below the false bottom."

"False bottom?"

"Had you not found it yet? If you empty the chest you will find that the bottom you see is too high to be the real bottom. You can lift a board and find the true bottom. Wish me to show you?" She asked, eager to pull the board and show Lovino the important things below.

* * *

.

* * *

.

* * *

Feliciano had Gilbert in stitches, the knight ruffling the boy's hair. Erzsébet was holding Roderich by the arm. She whispered something in the young man's ear, her husband nodding. Antonio watched the road, which seemed like an endless path of white. They were slowing down so he knew they had somewhere to stop but he could find nothing worth stopping for. Gilbert was in charge of the carriage, replacing Erzsébet at the reins. He knew exactly where to take them, so no one made any objection. Feliciano was learning how to manage the reins during some of the smoother parts of the road. So he stayed at the front of the carriage, making Gilbert laugh.

In their month of travel they had come across thieves and kidnappers, all who had not been expecting Gilbert and Erzsébet to fight back. Erzsébet had surprised Roderich with her fighting skills but Gilbert seemed to be used to this. Feliciano had stayed with Roderich in the carriage, Antonio taking the reins during these moments. It was now February, the group could tell from the writing Roderich did in his journal, he had a habit of writing verses at least once a day. The snow was more of a dirty slush now, the farther south they went, the less there was to trudge through.

Feliciano kept his jokes quiet and he was in charge of the reins as they approached a small church. He even paused to pray a moment before tying the horses. He was not allowed to enter so he knelt at the ground and kissed the cobblestone in reverence. He began to miss the church in Bracciano and being part of its choir. He looked once more at the church which would more aptly have been named a temple, for church was usually reserved for larger structures, before sitting again in the carriage. Nevertheless, they stopped there and kept in the carriage save for Roderich and Gilbert. The two of them entered, Roderich with money in his hands and Gilbert for protection.

The indulgences were a common trade for the church, but the exchange of money for the influence of the church to call off the hunt for Antonio's head was clandestine. The church was in need of funds and the amount had been settled in order to execute the favor, Antonio unaware that this transaction was taking place. He knew he was to stay out of the public eye until his indulgences cleared his name in the church and the pardons were signed. He figured he would be safe only inside the city of Bracciano. It was a fate he certainly did not mind. However, Roderich was paying to have the influence of the church call off the manhunt in all of Europe so no matter where Antonio found himself he would be safe. It was an extreme and expensive feat, none of them had heard it accomplished before. It was a risky gamble that the Austrian was willing to take in order to keep Antonio alive. For if Antonio died, the accord their parents had written would become null and the Fernández Carriedo family's wealth and status would vanish and their property would be seized by the appropriate states.

After what seemed like an eternity later, Roderich emerged with paperwork and without his purse. Gilbert took the reins again and bid Feliciano to stay inside the carriage until he was called. They went through roads unknown to any but Gilbert and Erzsébet for these were roads of great strategic importance. Cartographers did not include such roads on a path map for to do so would be to make themselves liable for their use. Those who knew the roads used them sparingly and for urgency only, knowing well the risk. Their travel time would be cut shorter, despite the twists in the path. The downside was that only Gilbert could show his face, for hidden roads like this were common hiding places for thieves and raiders. It would be incredibly unwise for two members of the nobility, a wanted man and a young boy to allow themselves to be seen.

Roderich voiced his discomfort a few times, disliking the darkness and the disarray he was able to see from the underside of the curtain. Erzsébet hushed him sweetly and told him of the Beilschmidt clan's combat prowess which soothed him enough for them to advance past a fork in the road which had two roads, the one Gilbert was about to choose and speed through or the second road which they had taken on travel up north months ago. The first road, which was the one riddled with uncertainty was far shorter but it skirted the edges of a nomad raider settlement and a dark wooded area.

The road ended at the front of a building and a traveler could rejoin the main road by going around the structure. Roderich recognized the stable and carriage house from the side. They had passed this structure from the back months ago on their travel toward the first Edelstein manor. It had not had any signage that it was an inn and they had ignored it, though the Lady had furrowed her brow as if trying to recall something. Surely, her family had stayed there once she decided as they approached the stable and carriage house.

They stopped at the inn, which was private and required a pass code to enter. It was a temporary stop, only enough to rest and breakfast. They would depart again as soon as their mouths had been filled and the steeds fed. Erzsébet said nothing about the speed at which they traveled so the rest kept their own opinions silent. Roderich blanched a few times but managed to keep his composure after a week. Gilbert stopped again at a knights-only inn, asking for his brother. They spent two nights there, partly because they had been caught by a thunderstorm and partly because Gilbert and his family had been away from each other for over a year. Erzsébet was welcomed back like part of the family and after some awkward exchanges, Roderich was invited to join the family himself.

The Beilschmidts were far more than three, though the three Gilbert had mentioned were the only ones with a direct Beilschmidt line. They were not all of the same surname, but were commonly referred to as the Beilschmidt clan. Roderich found he knew some of them, especially Sebastian and Erika Lili. Antonio kept silent, missing his own family. Feliciano made even the most serious of the Beilschmidt clan smile, flirted a little with Erika Lili until he was reprimanded by all her family. The Spaniard kept to himself until Gilbert introduced him loudly.

It was only after the introduction that Antonio loosened up and joined them. After all, the storm was gloomy enough without him. He was laughing and cheery with them, taking drinks to celebrate he was the new Viscount. Erzsébet and Erika sat aside, watching the men and chattering themselves about other matters. Erzsébet confided in Erika that she was with child, something she had yet to tell Roderich. Erika was excited, asking how Erzsébet knew.

"I have had to loosen the stay strings but only at the bottom of my gowns." She smiled, looking at Roderich.

"Do take care, Lady Edelstein!" Erika hummed, looking at Gilbert with a bit of melancholy. "Cousin Gilbert fancies you, you know. He was very broken when you were wed to Roderich."

Erzsébet sighed, "I was aware all along. He is not as discreet as he thinks himself to be. It was never our choice, you see. I do care for him, yet I love Roderich. If I were to have a girl I shall name her Gisele. Or a boy Franz Giselbert, what say you?" Erika nodded, saying nothing more as Albrecht sent the youngest and the girls to bed.

Erzsébet confided in Gilbert before she said a word to Roderich, the two men bonding over their mutual love of Erzsébet. Antonio was relieved to no longer be the topic of discussion during the trip, for Erzsébet was more important to protect than he after her announcement. Feliciano sometimes watched over her while she slept, making sure she kept warm. He sang to the unborn child, their spirits lifting as most had forgotten how sweet the boy's singing voice was. With the promise of new life, their travel was less stressful yet more so at once.

A pregnant Lady would be a valuable asset to any kidnapper who took her. Kidnappers who asked for ransom could ask for double their price in exchange for the safety of a Lady and an unborn heir. It was also a matter of keeping travel smooth so Lady Erzsébet would not feel too much discomfort, since they still had nearly a month to go. The shortcuts Gilbert had devised, Erzsébet agreed to would require little rest for the men. Antonio and Feliciano often found themselves holding the reins, and though they had another companion now, the driving was still only shared between Gilbert, Feliciano and Antonio. Roderich knew how to drive a carriage but he was best kept inside with his wife, his face was well known and very valuable already.

For the rest of the travel, they had been joined by Sebastian Zwingli. He had promised to keep a matter quiet, though it was clear in his features he had something to say. Antonio never figured it was something for him, he was going to be shocked once he knew what was on Sebastian's mind. Roderich and Gilbert knew what Sebastian had to say and bid him keep it until they arrived in Bracciano. He obliged, though reluctant to do so. He felt that Antonio should be notified before he arrived, so he could make proper arrangements and prepare for any consequences.

Antonio knew he and Roderich had a matter to discuss, but he was unaware of the matter Sebastian had to add. Roderich had shown him the contract their parents had agreed to. He said nothing to counter the same, agreeing to the terms which were inevitable. He and Lovino would never be able to produce an heir, and the Edelsteins were already readying to welcome theirs. Roderich had been so nervous that Antonio would retract from the agreement, but much to his surprise all the younger wanted was to return to his Italian. He hoped the younger noble would not change his mind once Sebastian told him what else the pardons entailed.

* * *

.

* * *

.

* * *

March 1547

Lovino sighed as he washed his dirty hands. Working the earth in at the edge of winter reminded him that Feliciano's birthday was coming up. He had acquired a gift for the other boy, it simply rested against his brother's bed alongside the journal he had meticulously filled with music notation. He had copied all the notes carefully, making sure not to get any ink smudges on the pages. It had been an arduous process but he had been proud of it. Lady Bosch had allowed him to copy the notes from a few pages her brother was to sell. It was a composition which was rapidly becoming popular. Lord Roderich would surely be pleased as well, since he was the one teaching Feliciano the arts. When the boy became older he would likely have an artistic sponsor if he continued to take these lessons and improve. His art was already up to par with some of the renowned names. He sighed again as he missed his brother. If the seventeenth came without his brother he would not not know what to do with himself. It would be the first year he had spent his brother's birthday away from the younger.

He ate supper and Romulus patted his back. With a sudden jolt he wished to visit the cemetery. It was behind the church, so he had gone by it many times. His parents and grandparents from his mother's side were buried there. Plots of cemetery land were expensive, but the family had bought them many decades ago when their money had been worth more. Lovino took Mazatl and his grandfather urgently, entering the cemetery and running to the graves. Mazatl was startled by the running but once she had caught her breath she sat on the dirt and looked at Lovino with a smile.

"They called for you?" She asked gently.

"No, how can they? They are dead." Lovino answered, slightly startled.

"Ah, how strange. My people still give our dead gifts and revere them even after they pass. The dead never leave us until we have forgotten them. We can keep their spirits alive like a candle lit. We only blow their spirits away once we forget them." Mazatl explained.

Lovino blinked and looked at her strangely, it was an odd belief but he felt himself liking the idea. It was akin to a guardian angel, from what he could fathom, but rather than a strange angel it was his own deceased that were with him. He took off the rosary he always kept and placed it around the headstone which bore his parents' names. He certainly had not forgotten them, so if Mazatl was right they were still with him in spirit.

"You must be very loved, for these spirits have looked over you. When you have felt fear, they have been reassurance."

Romulus looked at the bell tower, remembering his own wife and her fascination with the sound of bells. He had listened to Mazatl and wondered if what she said had any truth to it. If his wife, who had died during childbirth, had never left him as long as he remembered her then some things made much more sense. He had raised Alessandro alone, and their boy had been of good health despite some times Romulus could not care for him properly.

"It does not have to be just for the dead, does it?" Lovino asked, making Mazatl turn pensive.

After a while, in which she had been inadvertently murmuring in her native language, Mazatl finally answered, "Nothing I can think of says otherwise. We can keep anyone's spirit with us as long as we do not forget them. It makes any distance more bearable and any love more strong."

The girl felt herself being lifted, making a strange noise as she realized Romulus was picking her up. The man's eyes were just as watery as his grandson's, Mazatl blinking quickly as she realized the things she had told them had been important and moving. She tried to keep quiet, not wishing to interrupt the half epiphany they were having. The other half was surely relief, for they must have missed these people very much to cry as they did. Mazatl suspected part of Lovino's tears were for Antonio, who was alive but so far away.

The carriage stopped at the Edelstein manor, the travel weary passengers overjoyed to see it. The horses seemed most thankful of all, since Gilbert and Sebastian had made it a point to ride with haste. Antonio was to spend the night at the manor and the next morning be escorted alongside Feliciano to the Vargas house. It was two days before the seventeenth, so Feliciano had just barely made it home to celebrate another year with his family. They all made their way inside, Antonio and the youngest of the Italian family sharing a room. Sebastian took another room while Gilbert said he was just as well on the parlor couch. He only asked for something to sleep under, a blanket or quilt.

Sebastian excused himself to visit Lady Bosch and send her word of the group's safe arrival. Gilbert stayed awake until his cousin had returned to the home. Erzsébet woke up in the middle of the night and made her way to the kitchen. Gilbert was fast asleep so she covered him with the quilt he had left neatly folded on the arm of the couch. He must have humbled himself in order to not put off Roderich, she figured, since he had far more history with her than her current husband had before their marriage. With that thought, she retired to bed.

In the morning, the breakfast conversation surprised Lady Erzsébet and she figured Gilbert must have deduced who covered him with the quilt the night before. He spoke of love and the trials one is willing to subject themselves to in order to secure it. Antonio figured the speech was for him, as he had been the one to cause all the conundrum for love in the first place. Gilbert and Lady Erzsébet Lady knew otherwise but said nothing when Antonio voiced his apologies and took the words to heart.

With Sebastian and Gilbert flanking the group, Lord Roderich and Lady Erzsébet walked with Antonio and Feliciano to the house of Vargas. Sebastian approved heartily of the well-kept front garden and the formal gate. The little details told him this was a respectable home, though it belonged to peasants and his family was fine in association with the owners of it. When he met with Romulus, he made sure to give the man respect. Romulus kept his amusement to himself and allowed the group inside, graciously offering them refreshments.

Feliciano kept himself composed despite wanting to throw his arms around his grandfather, his brother, and Mazatl. He had missed their faces and voices so much and wanted to tell them all about Vienna, the inn by the two roads, and the Beilschmidt clan. He managed to keep quiet about Lady Edelstein being with child, allowing her to say it herself as she requested that Feliciano paint the family once the child had arrived. Romulus excused himself and went to the attic, bringing down a rocking chair his wife had sat in when expecting Alessandro. From the looks of it, Romulus had spared no expense in the chair. He passed it on to Roderich and Erzsébet with his most sincere blessings.

Lovino had gone up to the attic once the flustered couple and the two knights had gone, not coming down for anyone. Antonio climbed up after a half hour, figuring that Lovino would not come down for anyone but his brother. The younger boy was listening to Mazatl speaking of keeping a person's spirit, the same words that had moved Romulus and Lovino to tears. The Spaniard finally found his beloved with his arms around the wooden chest and approached him carefully.

"Take my hand." Antonio whispered, Lovino reluctantly locked his fingers with the other's own. Antonio held his waist and kissed his forehead, so he closed his eyes, letting the tears roll down his cheeks. The sun was setting and the small window of the attic let blue-violet rays through over them. He was as safe as he could possibly be, with an indulgence from the church granting him pardons. He suspected it could not be so easy but said nothing on the matter. Sebastian had told him they had something to talk about and Antonio had asked to be allowed to rejoin Lovino before the exchange. The other had agreed, leaving Antonio to meet with Lovino in the meantime.


End file.
